


The Assassin

by Smosh_Fanfics (KateBlack)



Category: Smosh
Genre: AU, Assassin - Freeform, Assassin AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mari Being A badass bitch, One smut chapter later on, Other youtuber cameos but the smosh people are the only ones important to the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-02-24 00:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 60,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateBlack/pseuds/Smosh_Fanfics
Summary: Matthew Sohinki can only say he's successful in one thing, and that's politics. He's managed to become one of Kolea's five governors, and wields tremendous power. But he didn't get there with the love of the people; he got there by blackmailing everyone who got in his way. If there's one thing Matthew's learned, it's that everyone has a secret.Mari Takahashi grew up in the slums, where no one can vote and everyone struggles to put food on their tables. Containing the poorest citizens of Opanx, people the government doesn't care about, the slums are a horrible place to live. Death, disease, hunger... these are all things Mari is familiar with. Growing up in the slums has made her into the woman she is today; a strong, intelligent person... who kills people to get the money she needs.When someone hires Mari to kill Matthew, she doesn't hesitate to take the offer. But when killing him turns out to be harder than she originally thought, she has to change up her tactics. She has to get close enough to him to kill him, but how close will she get to the corrupt politician?





	1. Mari

Laughter and conversation filled the air as the party guests socialized in the gardens outside the mansion where the event was taking place. They danced and talked, wearing their most expensive clothes and jewels, garments that could feed a family in the slums for a week. Servants bustled around, serving champagne and snacks to the guests on trays, looking at their feet. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched.

She kneeled on top of another mansion, the one next to it. Her purple hair was pulled back and concealed in her hood. A bandana covered her mouth, and her goggles covered her eyes, though she'd remove them soon. Her bow was resting in her hands, an arrow already knocked, as it's owner waited.

Mari had been perched there for over an hour, feeling the cold wind blow against her face, waiting for the party to finally move outside. Still, the birthday boy had not surfaced from his home, and so she waited. Patience was a virtue, and it was one Mari possessed.

She watched the partygoers, who seemed like they were right in front of her through her goggles, though they were half a mile away from her in reality. She watched them sip their champagne and try desperately to talk to people who were above them, in an attempt to improve their social standing. To Aristocrats, popularity was everything.

Mari wondered if the man who had hired her was here, though she doubted it. He had probably been an extra, someone who the person who wanted Keith Leak Jr. dead had sent. After all, an Aristocrat would rather be found dead then in a bar in the slums. She wondered who it was, and what Keith had done to earn their hate. It must have been something big, and personal.

But she knew she'd never know the answer to any of those questions. She was an assassin, not a private investigator. All she knew was that the person had money, and that was all she needed to know.

She was surprised there hadn't been more security. She'd only had to knock out one man to get to the top of the mansion she was on. Maybe it was because Keith was a celebrity, not a government official. Or maybe the rising singer was cocky. Either way, Mari wasn't complaining. Less security equaled less work for her.

She heard music, and focused her attention on the doors, which were opening. She smiled when she saw who had come out; Keith Leak Jr., hand in hand with his fiancè, Noah Grossman. Everyone cheered when they did, both dressed in suits made of expensive materials which would soon be covered in blood.

Mari readied her bow, and took aim. Keith walked over to one of the many tables and sat down, before other Aristocrats started rushing to join him. Servants bustled around, setting the table. Mari didn't have a clean shot.

Once the cake had been lit and placed in front of him, everyone started singing the birthday song, while Keith grinned like an idiot. Once they had finished, Keith stood up to blow out his candles.

"Happy birthday, Keith," Mari muttered to herself with a smile, taking pleasure in the sadistic joke.

Then she let go of the drawstring.

The twang it had made was unheard over the cheers of the partygoers, but the sound the arrow made when it embellished itself in Keith's neck wasn't. He brought his hands to his neck, and though she couldn't hear him, she could imagine the sounds he made as he choked on his own blood. It was, after all, a sound she'd heard many times.

The dark-skinned man staggered as the cheers stopped. He fell against his fiancè, grabbing onto his shoulders as the young man sprang up to catch him, a look of shock on his face.

Then Noah screamed, and then there was chaos. People started to rush forward, creating a circle around the fallen star, obstructing Mari's vision. She knew she had to leave soon, if she didn't want to be caught and executed, though she wanted to stay and see what her actions would cause. Instead, she slung her bow over her shoulder, and started making her way down the mansion, using its many windowsills and balconies.

Once she was down, she slipped into the shadows, her black clothing making her practically invisible. She was in the mansion's backyard, safely out of sight. Still, she was careful as she slipped out of the property. The mansion's inhabitants were turning on the lights, no doubt hearing the screams from next door. Any one of them could spot her.

Once she was in the alleyway, she took off at a sprint. She needed to get out of the spaced out, quiet neighborhoods of the Aristocrat district, and into their bustling downtown area. From there, she could easily climb one of their buildings and jump over the small wall separating the district from Suburban District 2.

She could hear the blaring sirens of the polis, obviously making their way to Keith's estate. She slipped back into the shadows until she was sure they had passed, before resuming her journey.

When she reached the downtown area, she wasted no time before getting herself on their rooftops. She pointed out her left arm and balled it into a fist, making a grappling hook fly out of her armband and embed itself into the top of the closest building. Using the momentum of it reeling itself back in, Mari flew through the air, doing a large backflip and landing on top of the building as the grappling hook flew back into its place in her armband.

Then she was running again, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. The downtown area of the Aristocrat district was more similar to the slums then the residential area had been, though not by much. The architecture that made up the packed buildings was much more exquisite, giving the buildings an unique look. Screens covered most of them, and were already displaying news about what she'd just done. She didn't have time to watch them, though.

She reached the wall. The Suburbs district's downtown area wasn't right next to the Aristocrat's, but their residential area was. She pointed out her left arm and shot her grappling hook into the roof of the nearest house, letting it pull her down. It was the riskiest part of her mission, as it was easy to spot her, zooming across the sky.

But luck was on her side tonight, and she got to the roof of the house without being spotted. She rolled, before jumping back to her feet.

She used a tree to climb to the ground, and started sprinting again. Her heart beat quickly, and soon, the exhilaration she'd felt from her kill wore off, leaving her tired. She leaned against one of the house's garages, catching her breath. She knew it would be awhile before the news reached the suburbs, but she knew anyone who saw her would turn her into the polis anyway; it was illegal for a person from the slums to leave the slums unless they had enough money to move into a suburban district.

Luckily, she was near her destination. She started a slow jog, and made her way to their meeting point, the garage of a home that was up for sale.

She lifted up the door and slid into the room. Boze was waiting for her, a lit cigarette in her mouth and her helmet already on, resting on her motorcycle.

"Took you long enough," She teased, smoke escaping her lungs.

Mari rolled her eyes and grabbed her helmet from the motorcycle's storage compartment, before stuffing her cloak and all her equipment into the space the helmet used to occupy. She put it on and sat down, wrapping her arms around her friend's waist. Boze slammed her foot on the gas pedal, and the two women sped out of the garage and down the deserted roads of the district.

There were multiple suburb districts, and the only thing dividing them was a fence with flimsy gates which Boze had already opened on her way here. They only had to go through one before they got to the real wall; the one separating the slums from the suburbs. It was the only district wall that anyone really cared about, and was covered in security. Guards patrolled the top of it, and the doors had security checks.

Boze pulled up to one. Mari buried her head in her friend's shoulder, and slid up her helmet's visor. The guard at the check gave them a suspicious look.

"Identification," He grumbled.

Boze handed over their fake ID's, made for them by her boyfriend, Damien. The guard scanned them.

"What's your business in the slums?" The guard asked.

"My father was demoted a few years back," Boze lied. "And I want him to meet my new girlfriend. Get his blessing. It's a family tradition."

"We want to get married soon," Mari piped in.

The guard gave them one last suspicious look before pressing a button, lifting up the barrier and letting them into the slums. They gave him a grateful smile and sped into their district.

Getting into the slums was the easy part; getting out wasn't. They didn't really care who went in, they just wanted to make sure that no one got out. Mari usually used her grappling hook to get out, while Boze used the security check when their friend, Flitz, was working there. Mari couldn't begin to count how many close calls she had, and how many guards she'd had to knock out or kill.

They sped through the roads of the slums. Few people had cars, so they were empty. The road was cracked, and much less enjoyable to drive on than the one in the past districts.

The slums were never awake. There was always sound, usually coming out of the bars. Every once in awhile, you'd hear some poor soul scream. Mari had learned a long time ago that you couldn't save everyone. She didn't even try to anymore.

Compared to the architecture of the past districts, the slums was a joke. Most of the buildings looked like they would crumble any second. Windows were boarded up, signs were faded, blood and graffiti covered the walls. It was horrifying to look at for newcomers. But Mari and Boze were used to it.

Boze pulled up into the garage of their shared house. They were among the lucky ones who could afford a house, unlike most of the slum's residents, who lived in tiny apartments. Of course, they shared the house with Damien.

Mari had enough money to buy her own house, but she was so used to having Boze and Damien with her that she wouldn't want too. In fact, she had enough money to move into the suburbs; if she could prove that she had gotten the money legally. Which she definitely couldn't.

Their house was small, with only four rooms, including the garage. They also had a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom, which they all shared. Their windows were boarded shut, but you could still look out them a little, and they let in some light. Almost everyone had their windows boarded shut; thieves were more than a common sight in the slums.

They locked up the garage and walked into the house. Damien had already made them soup, which was sitting near their fireplace to keep it warm. Mari was starving, and ate it quickly.

Then she walked into their bedroom, where Damien was sitting on his computer. She ignored him, and climbed into her own bed, which was made of an inflatable mattress, a blanket, and a pillow. No one sold beds in the slums, and it wasn't like they could go to the suburbs and buy one.

Letting the fatigue wash over her, Mari closed her eyes and drifted into oblivion, thinking about the money she'd collect tomorrow for completing the job.


	2. Matthew

If there was one thing Matthew prided himself on, it was the fact that he was always early.

The meeting room was deserted. It was a small room, with a small circular table surrounded by five chairs, all made of oak. The back wall was a window, though it was only one-sided, making sure no one could see the inhabitants of the room from the outside. Matthew walked over to his chair, and sat down.

He drummed his fingers on the table as he waited. The meeting would officially start in ten minutes, so he had some time. His thoughts started to drift.

The news had been dominated for the past few hours by Keith Leak Jr., and this time it wasn't for a successful song; he'd been assassinated. Matthew didn't really care; he wasn't a fan of Keith. But the stir it had caused in the Aristocrat and upper Suburban districts was definitely worrisome. Aristocrats had started hiring better security, fearing that they were next on the kill list. Suburbians were building shrines to him, and having candlelight vigils. Matthew was sure that soon, there would be a riot. But that was a concern for another day.

Olivia Sui walked into the room. Out of his four colleagues, she was Matthew's favorite. She was always calm, cool, and collected, and never yelled during their debates. She was the tenth woman to be on the Govner's Panel in the 150 years it has existed, and the only member to ever come out as gay. She was inspiring.

She sat down on her chair, which was the one to his left. She folded her hands and placed them on the table, staring right ahead. Together, they waited.

After a couple of minutes, Matt Raub came in, taking his chair to Olivia's left. And, after him, appearing at the last second before they could be identified as late, came David Moss and Shayne Topp.

There were three political parties in Kolea; the Moralis Party, the Pax Party, and the Iustitia Party. Olivia and Matt were from the Pax Party, Matthew was from the Iustitia Party, and David and Shayne were from the Moralis Party. The Iustitia and the Moralis Parties were bitter rivals, and so, Matthew hated Shayne and David, and they hated him. Unfourtnetly for Matthew, they had him outnumbered on the panel.

Olivia cleared her throat. "Let us begin."

She flicked her wrist, and the hologram box installed in the table flickered on. It showed a map of the Terra.

"Today's topic," Olivia stated. "Is the Sundial Isles."

She zoomed up on the small landmass on the map. "The Sundial Isles has a population of one million people. They are a completely independent state, and have remained that way for hundreds of years. However, Inite and Fenzea want to change that."

She zoomed out, so they could see all three landmasses. "Both nations have claimed the land, and both of them want us to take their side. Inite has threatened to stop sending us oil if we don't support them, while Fenzea has threatened to stop sending us metals and jewels. War is coming, and we must decide what our course of action should be."

They all knew all of this, of course. Every member of the panel had come prepared, with arguments already written out. Matthew was no exception.

"We should support Inite," David started the argument. "We need their oil, and with us on their side, they will surely win. Fenzea needs our water, we could just wait them out before they relent and reopen trades."

"The Sundial Isles have the biggest oil mines in the world," Matt Raub suggested. "We should support Fenzea, and work out a treaty to take some of the Sundial Isles for ourselves. We shouldn't have to depend on Inite for our oil."

"And if they refuse?" Shayne asked. "There is no guarantee that Fenzea would give us any share of the Isles. We need oil more than we need jewels. We should support Inite."

"We shouldn't get involved at all," Olivia countered. "Both nations depend on us for most of their water. They have made empty threats. If they cut off trade with us, their people will die before the war even begins. It is our best course of action to just wait it out."

Matthew stared at the map. "I agree with you, Govner Sui. We shouldn't get involved. Yet."

He turned to look at everyone. "We've been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time. Inite and Fenzea have been locked in a cold war over the Isles for a century. They are both equally prepared for war. They will destroy each other, and the victor will be weak. It will be easy to take their land after that."

Everyone stared at him for a couple of seconds, mulling over what he'd said. Matthew leaned back in his chair, knowing that he'd won them over.

"So you suggest that we wait," David smiled. "And take not only the Sundial Isles, but Inite and Fenzea as well."

"Essentially, yes," Matthew smiled. "It will take a long time, of course, but I believe that it is our best course of action. Like Olivia said, neither Inite and Fenzea will act on their threats."

There were a few more seconds of silence, before Olivia cleared her throat. "It is time to vote. Does anyone want to offer an alternative to Govner Sohinki's proposition?"

There was silence.

"Then it is decided," With one smooth flick of her wrist, the hologram box shut off. "We shall deny both Inite and Fenzea's requests and wait until the war is over. Panel dismissed."

Everyone stood up. Matthew straightened his suit, and followed his peers out of the room.

After riding the elevator to the main floor, Matthew started making his way to his party's building. The governor's room was located in the middle of the square, and was surrounded by three identical towers; one for each party.

The Iustitia tower was always hectic. The second Matthew stepped in the door, he was almost knocked over by a woman carrying so many files she could hardly see over them. Noise filled the air, and Matthew felt like he was navigating a maze as he made his way through the crowded halls.

When he finally reached the elevator, he couldn't have been more relieved. He pressed the button for his floor and leaned against the wall as it started to rise.

With the upcoming elections, everyone was a bit antsy. His party wasn't doing too well; the other two parties had two governors on the panel, while they only had one. They needed everything they had to make sure Matthew stayed where he was, and to hopefully put another person beside him. That, however, was unlikely. But Matthew was entirely confident that he'd stay exactly where he was. The woman who was in charge of counting the votes, Sarah Whittle, better make sure that he's right, if she doesn't want her husband to figure out who their son's real father is.

The elevator doors opened, and Matthew stepped out. The tenth and final floor of the building contained only one room; his office.

He unlocked the door. His office was rather large, with a huge window taking up the back wall. File cabinets covered the walls, and his birch desk and chair took up a small amount of space in comparison.

The second Matthew sat down and placed his briefcase on his desk, the door flung open.  _Can I never get a break?_  Matthew thought.

His mood improved, however, when he saw who it was. His "assistant", Joshua Ovenshire, whom he called Joven, was closing the door, a file in his hands. When he turned, Matthew could see the look of uttermost excitement and pride on the black-haired man's face.

"I have something on David Moss," Joven proclaimed proudly.

A grin broke out across Matthew's face. That was news he had been hoping to hear for _months_. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Joven almost tripped in his rush to sit down.

Joven slammed the file on his desk and opened it, spreading out its contents. Before Matthew could get a proper look at them, Joven started speaking.

"You know how he's married, right?" Joven asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Well, I wonder how she'd react to  _this._ "

Matthew looked down. Spread out in front of him were a few pictures of David. One was of him letting a brown-haired man in his house. The next of him and the man making out in what looked like a kitchen. And the last of the two men in bed together.

"Is that-" Matthew started, but Joven cut him off.

"The famous comedian Ian Hecox?" Joven grinned. "Yes."

Matthew could barely contain his excitement. He wanted to run around his office a few times, to hug the man in front of him, to punch the air.

But Matthew was a talented politician, and knew how to keep his emotions in check. "Thank you, Joven. I knew I could count on you."

Joven nodded. "Anytime, Matthew."  
  
Matthew nodded as Joven left, still staring at the photos. He couldn't believe it. He had photographic evidence of one of his biggest political rivals cheating on his wife, right under him. And with a man, of all people! Matthew was far from homophobic, but the sight was still shocking. And, if she ever found out, would be even more salt in the wound for David's wife, Sabrina.

Matthew couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it had been for Joven to get his hands on these. His "assistant", as he was formally called, was nothing if not skilled at his job. For he wasn't really Matthew's assistant; not in the way everyone thought he was. His real job? Finding the dirt on other people that Matthew had used to claw his way to the top. He was also Matthew's best friend.

Matthew put the photos back into the file and stored it in one of his many cabinets. He'd have to ask Joven for digital copies, to make sure he had a backup. But he'd do that later; right now, he had to work on the press release for the discussion he and the other governor's had had less than an hour ago. He'd already decided what information he'd release. He'd tell the public about their decision to stay out of the upcoming war, but he wouldn't say anything about what else they'd decided on.

It took him a few hours to write it. He read it over carefully, making sure every word was exactly the one he wanted to use. He knew that the rulers of Inite and Fenzea would be reading it, and needed to make sure that no one could make out his true intentions from what he'd written.

By the time he'd sent it to the Kolea News Network, or the KNN as it was often called, it was dark outside. When he finished riding the elevator to the main floor, it was practically deserted. 

He made his way out of the building and started typing in his number on the parking meter next to the garage. He waited for a few seconds as the machine found his car, before it popped out of the ground in front of him. The machine still amazed him. It stored everyone's cars underground, and could almost instantly summon any one at a second's notice. 

He climbed in and started up the engine, before making his way home. It was a short drive, and Matthew was there in ten minutes. He lived in a lavish penthouse apartment, unlike most members of the Elite District, who lived in mansions.

He rode the elevator up to his apartment, and got out. The security system scanned his eye, and then he was in.

He took off the jacket of his suit and laid it over a chair, knowing one of his cleaning staff would come and get it for him. He heard a door open, and saw his wife, Courtney, walking down the hall, looking like she'd just gotten out of bed.

"Matthew, there you are," She kissed his cheek, though Matthew knew it was a meaningless gesture. "You have to stop working so late. You need your sleep."

He gave her a weak smile as her startling green eyes bore into his. "I will, I promise."

She smiled, though they both knew it was an empty promise that he'd made many times before. She patted his arm. "I made some chicken. It's in the fridge."  
  
Matthew nodded as she turned around and made her way back to her room, her disheveled blonde hair swaying behind her. He made his way to the kitchen, and found the chicken in the fridge. While Courtney didn't have to cook, as they had hired help, she made almost everything they ate. Seeing as she didn't have a job, cooking was one of the few ways she kept herself entertained during the day.

He popped the chicken in the microwave. After he had finished eating it, he went upstairs to the roof.

He did this every night. He enjoyed the cold wind as it blew through his hair, and the view before him. He lived on a hill, so he could see the lights of the downtown area of the Elite District before him, even though he lived in it. He could also see the ocean, and the sandy beach before it.

He stood there for awhile, thinking. Eventually, he turned back around, and made his way back into his penthouse apartment. It was time to take his wife's advice; he needed his sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be updated every Thursday.


	3. Mari

Mari shoved a knife in her boot.

"You're going so soon?" Boze asked. She was sitting in front of the fireplace. Damien had his head resting on her lap, and was coding on his laptop.

"Yes," Mari replied. "Do you want to come?"

Boze shook her head. "Have fun. And remember, I get a cut, so don't blow all of it while you're out."

Mari rolled her eyes as she threw her hood over her head. Zipping up her jacket, she left their house, locking the door behind her.

She took off at a light jog. It was cold, like it always was at this time of night. She was heading to the bar, as it was the night she and her employer had agreed to meet on. He had already paid her half of the two hundred aurums he owed her, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to get the other half.

Damien was her scout. He found people online, and told them where to find her. He kept their locations filed, so she could locate them if they didn't pay. He was essential to her entire operation, and she couldn't be happier that Boze had brought him home one day, after meeting him in the bar. Although, she wasn't pleased about it at the time.

Soon, she was in the downtown area. The bar she always used, the Spearmint Rhino, wasn't too far into the crowded area, so she got there quickly. Ignoring the drunk people outside and the flickering sign that looked like it was going to fall off the wall any second, Mari walked inside.

The bar was always packed. It was one of the largest buildings in the slums, about five times the size of her house. On the left side, people were dancing under flickering lights and blaring music, wearing so little clothing you could barely call it such. On the right side, people were crowded around the many pits that were dug into the ground, watching the fighters inside them beat each other to a pulp. People were drinking on both sides, the alcohol fueling their passions.

Mari walked over to the right side, though she wasn't very interested in any of the fights that were taking place. There was only one fighter she was interested in watching, and that was Wes. However, the silver-haired man was not fighting today, much to her dismay. She was still hoping for a rematch of their last fight, even though she had quit the pits a long time ago. Not because she lost, but because it would give her another opportunity to sneak into the tall man's bed.

She walked to the back of the bar, to the multiple tables that resided there. She sat down and placed her hands on the table, waiting. She was early, but the man should be showing up any minute now.

A waiter came around with drinks, and Mari took one. It was whiskey. No one in the slums drank any of the sugary beverages that she'd heard of being served in the other districts, like cocktails and martinis. They took hard alcohol, and they took it straight. Most people liked to think it was because they were tough, but it was really because no one could afford to drink the fancier drinks. In fact, that summed up the general mindset of the slums; say you're tough for doing something, but you're really just doing it because you're poor.

Mari hadn't been waiting for very long she when spotted him, a black hood pulled over his head. No one tried to conceal their face here; shame was not a thing that existed in the slums, not like it did in the other districts. Which meant that this man must be the man she was waiting for.

He sat down across from her and pulled off his hood, revealing his blonde hair. His eyes darted around the room, making sure that no one noticed or recognized him. Mari leaned back in her chair, taking a long sip of her whiskey. She had long ago gotten used to the burning sensation it caused as it slid down her throat. The man looked at her strangely.

"Where's my money?" She asked, slamming the drink back down on the table. The cold metal of her knife pressed against her bare skin above her sock, as if it was reminding her of its presence.

After a few more quick glances, the man pulled a pile of money out of his pocket and slid it over to her. Mari counted the hundred aurum-bills quickly, flipping the pieces of paper through her hands with ease. Once she was sure she hadn't been ripped off, she shoved it into her pocket and stood up to leave.

"Wait," The man stammered, making her pause. "I have another job for you. If you're interested."

That caught Mari's interest. Never before in her career had she served a client who hired her twice, let alone in a row.

She sat back down. "Do you now?"

The man nodded and started fishing around in his pockets. Once he found what he was looking for, he pulled it out with so much haste that he dropped it, and the piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Mari snorted; the painful obviousness of how badly this man wanted to leave was hilarious.

The man picked up and slammed the piece of paper on the table. It was a photograph of a man Mari didn't recognize. He was wearing a suit, and was standing behind a microphone, obviously giving a speech. He wasn't a traditionally attractive man, but there was something about the look in his eyes that Mari found sort of alluring.

"Do you know who this is?" The man asked. Mari shook her head.

"Some sort of politician?" She guessed.

The man nodded. "It's Matthew Sohinki, of the Iusititia party. He's one of the five governors."

Mari whistled. While no one in the slums cared much about politics, as none of them could vote, she still knew what a governor was; and she knew that killing one would be far from an easy task.

"You better be willing to pay a pretty penny if you want me to kill one of the most powerful men in Kolea for you," Mari leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her whiskey.

"I am," The man replied. "Five hundred thousand aurums."

Mari almost spat out her drink.

Five hundred thousand aurums? That was more than all the money she'd ever made in her life combined. That was enough to buy her a house in the Aristocrat District, if she could prove she'd earned it legally.

"We have a deal," She said, almost instantly.

The man smiled. "Good."

He stood up quickly and threw his hood back over his head, almost tripping over his feet as he rushed to leave the crowded bar. Mari watched him go, downing the remains of her glass.

She couldn't wait to tell Boze and Damien, whom she knew would be ecstatic about the news. Suddenly, the hundred aurums resting in her pocket felt like nothing.

She took it out, and sorted out Boze's share, which was ten percent. She might as well blow her's tonight. She scanned the bar. She could watch some pit fights, and make some bets. Then she spotted an attractive black-haired woman sitting alone at the counter, and a grin spread across her face.

Mari stood up and walked over to the woman, sitting down beside her. She held up two fingers to the bartender, who nodded. The woman looked her over.

"Hello," Mari introduced herself, kissing the woman's hand. "I'm Mari."

"Monica," The other woman replied, giggling. "What brings you here, Mari?"

Mari smiled and leaned back in her chair as the bartender put two glasses of whiskey on the table in front of the two women. "You."

• • •

Mari woke up in someone else's residence, wrapped in their arms.

She untangled herself from Monica and stood up. She was in a small apartment, one of the numerous ones that made up the bulk of residences in the slums. She picked her clothes off the floor, and started getting dressed.

She didn't feel bad about leaving Monica without saying goodbye. Both women had made it very clear to each other that they were only looking for a one-night stand, and that was what Mari had got. Without looking back, she left the apartment and exited the building.

She knew the downtown area of the slums like the back of her hand, and knew exactly how to get home from where she was. She took off at a jog, and made her way home quickly.

She opened the door quietly, knowing Boze and Damien were probably still asleep. She hung up her coat and fished Boze's money out of her pocket. As if she could sense it, Boze appeared from the bedroom the second Mari placed the wad of aurums on the table.

"Where have you been?" She asked, counting the bills to make sure Mari hadn't ripped her off.

"Having a fling," Mari replied, leaning against the wall. "And I've got some very good news."

"Which is..?" Boze raised her eyebrow.

"We've been hired to kill Governor Sohinki," Mari leaned forwards and smiled. "For five hundred thousand aurums."

Boze dropped her money. "You're kidding!"

Mari grinned at her partner's shocked expression. "No, my dear Boze, I am not."

Damien appeared from the doorway, wearing nothing but a shirt and boxers. His glasses were lopsided on his face, like he'd just thrown them on. "I heard something about a crap tone of money?"

"Put on some pants!" Mari scolded him, though she had a grin on her face. Damien rolled his eyes and disappeared back into the room, doing what she had asked.

"Five hundred thousand..." Boze murmured like she was in a trance. "I can't believe it. After this, we'll never have to do another job. We'll be set for life!"

"As if we'd ever do that," Mari rolled her eyes.

Boze didn't reply, but Mari knew she felt similarly. They were in too deep to stop now.

Damien resurfaced, wearing jeans, with his laptop in his hands. "So, we've been hired to kill a governor? Which one?"

"Governor Sohinki," Mari replied. "Of the Iustitia party."

Damien sat down, and his fingers started flying over his keyboard. There weren't many computer-savvy people in the slums, making him rare. When Mari had first met him, his laptop was the only thing he possessed. It was like his baby. Which was good, because knowing Boze, it would be the closest thing to one he'd ever have.

"I've found his house," Damien didn't look up from the computer screen. "He lives in a penthouse. A pretty fancy one, too. I'll pull up the cameras."

Mari and Boze were silent, letting the man do his thing. Mari knew that if she ever wanted to get close to their target, she'd need Damien's help.

The man pushed up his glasses. "He went on his roof yesterday from 9:00 to 9:20. And the day before that. And the day before that."

"Do you think it's a routine he has?" She asked. "How much security is up there?"

"None," Damien replied, looking up at her. "And yes, I do think it is a routine. He's done it every night for the past week."

"Any other security concerns?" Mari asked him.

"Let me check," Damien's fingers started flying over the keyboard again. "Yup. Every Govoner wears an armband that they can use to call for help at any time."

"Can you turn that off?" Mari asked.

Damien smiled at her knowingly, and she smiled back. Of course he could. He was Damien, the man who had been demoted from the highest Suburb District because he had been caught streaming money from other people's bank accounts into his own. He could do anything.

"I can also lock him out of his house," Damien closed his laptop.

"So all I'll have to do is shoot him while he's standing on his roof," Mari stated. "What's the time range?"

"8:40 to 10:00," Damien pushed up his glasses. "Approximately."

"When are we doing this?" Boze asked, turning to look at her. Damien followed suit.

"How about Wednesday?" Mari asked. "Two days from now."

"Sounds like a plan," Damien replied. Boze nodded, giving Mari all the answers she needed.

Two days, and then they'd be rich. And all she had to do was kill a politician who enjoyed spending time on a roof.

This was going to be easy.


	4. Matthew

Matthew had never had so many people stare at him before.

The second he walked into the Moralis building, all eyes turned to him. Silence fell over the workers as he made his way to the front desk. The secretary dropped his phone.

"Which floor is David Moss' office located on?" Matthew asked the gaping man. "I need to talk to him about something concerning the press release on Tuesday's meeting."

"Floor nine," The man stammered out after he got over his shock.

Matthew gave him a smile and walked over to the elevator. Once the metal doors closed in front of him, he let out a sigh of relief, thankful to be out of that tense situation.

He pressed the button and straightened his suit as the elevator started to rise. He tightened his grip on his briefcase. Though he had confronted many people before, he never got over the anxiety he felt before he did.

The doors opened with a ding, and Matthew stepped out. He knocked on the door to David's office, knowing it was his because of the sign hanging on the door with the man's name on it.

The secretary must've already told David about his visit, because the orange-haired man opened the door almost immediately.

"What do you want?" The man's eyes narrowed.

Matthew smiled. "I need to talk to you about something, Governor Moss. May I come in?"

After a few seconds of tense silence, David relented and stepped aside, letting the taller man inside his office. The room was practically identical to Matthew's, though David had a couple framed photos resting on his desk.

"What do you want?" David asked, watching Matthew pick up one of his photos. It was a picture of David and his wife, Sabrina, a pretty dark-skinned woman with red hair, on their wedding day. "I feel like you aren't here to talk about yesterday's meeting."

"She's a pretty woman, your wife," Matthew stated, ignoring his colleague. "Tell me, does she know about Ian Hecox?"

He looked over at David, who looked like he was frozen, his eyes wide. Matthew could hear his heavy breaths, even though he was halfway across the room.

"What did you just say?" David asked, so quietly Matthew barely heard him.

Matthew placed his briefcase on David's desk and opened it, taking out the copies of the photos Joven had made him. David walked over to him, and Matthew handed him the photos.

"You have a son, don't you?" Matthew asked as David stared at the photos, his mouth agape. "I wonder what would happen to him if your wife figured out."

Suddenly, David rushed forward, slamming Matthew into the wall by his neck. Matthew barely felt the pain; he had a high tolerance.

"Kill me, and they're released to the public," Matthew chocked out as David's fingers tightened, cutting off his airflow entirely.

For a few seconds, David didn't release him. Matthew wasn't scared; this was a situation he'd been in before. Eventually, David let go of his neck, and he crumbled to the floor.

"What do you want?" David asked, staring down at the man before him.

Matthew picked himself up. "I've always wanted an ally on the panel."

"What does that mean?" David growled.

"You'll see," Matthew replied, walking over to the desk to grab his suitcase. "I'll be in touch."

And with those words, he left the brown-eyed man, the photos proving his adultery still in his hands.

• • •

It was unusually cold tonight.

As he stood on his roof, Matthew thought about the events of the day. With David under his control, it was going to be a lot easier to get things done on the panel. He'd made Matthew's life a lot easier. And, with Sarah's help, he would make sure David stayed there come elections.

However, the main thing that dominated his mind was his wife. Courtney seemed even more distant than usual, only ever talking to him when he came home from work. When they were first married, she at least tried to make it work, talking to him at meals and the such. Now, she just didn't care anymore. Of course, Matthew didn't blame her; it wasn't like he had ever put any effort into their marriage. Mainly because it was arranged, one of the first moves he'd ever made in his political career. They were never meant to be in the first place, and he wasn't really surprised that it had gotten to this point. He couldn't even imagine how hard it was for her, as she didn't have a job, and spent most of her time in their house. He was surprised she hadn't flung herself off the roof; he was sure he would've by now, if he were her.

He stared at the buildings in front of him, across the narrow roads of the downtown area. They looked just like they always did, with their exhaust pipes and fire escapes. Except...

Matthew squinted. Among the rooftops he's seen so many times that their details were almost etched into his memory, he saw something else. Or rather, someone else, because as he squinted, he realized exactly what it was.

A hooded figure was crouched on one of the rooftops, the black fabric of their outfit fluttering in the wind. They were too far away for Matthew to make out any details of their build or features, but he could make out the object in their hands; a knocked bow, aimed right at him.

His eyes widened, and he ducked below the bannister surrounding his rooftop deck just before the person let the arrow fly. It landed in the pavement in front of him, cutting across the air he had just been standing in.

His heart started beating quickly as he stared at the projectile, and realized what was happening. Someone was trying to  _kill_  him! Doing the first thing he thought of, he threw his wrist up and held down the panic button on his wristband. He was pretty sure this counted as an emergency.

But the wristband didn't light up like it was supposed to. With a gasp, Matthew realized it had been disabled. How was that possible? Had someone in the Moralis building done this?

He had no time to think about it, however. In a desperate attempt, he rolled to the door and pulled on the handle, hoping to get back into his penthouse. But it was locked, and he couldn't. Matthew had to release the handle, as he knew his assailant had had more than enough time to reload. And he was right; the second he rolled back to his hiding spot, and arrow thudded in the door, right where he had just been.

Panicked, Matthew's mind raced as he tried to think of a way out of the situation. He had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He was pretty fit, as he went on morning jogs and went to the gym every weekend, but he doubted he'd be able to defeat an armed opponent.

Something whizzed across the sky, and struck the entrance to his house. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, before realizing what it was; a grappling hook.

His eyes widened, and he sprung up. He took a quick glance towards his assailant, and saw them zipping across the sky, right towards him. Panicked, he did the only thing he could think of.

Taking a running start, he jumped onto the roof of the apartment complex next to his. The hard concrete hit him hard as he landed sloppily on his feet, almost falling over as he started to sprint. He wasn't thinking clearly, adrenaline and panic overriding his body. All he knew was that he had to get away from whoever was behind him, and he needed to get away _fast._

He could hear their footsteps behind him as he ran, pushing him to go faster. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, his assailant right behind him. His heart was pounding against his chest as he pushed himself onwards, trying to ignore the fatigue threatening to overtake his body.

Eventually, he got to the last building before the road. There was no possible way that he could make the next jump, and he had no choice but to turn around and face his attacker. They were right behind him, standing still as they stared at him. They were short, with some sort of goggles covering their eyes. Matthew couldn't make out any of their defining features; heck, he couldn't even tell if they were male or female.

"Who are you?" Matthew shouted, trying to keep his tears at bay. The person didn't respond, and he noticed the knife in their hand.

Suddenly, Matthew was struck with the sickening realization that he was about to die. On a random rooftop, alone, at the hands of someone he didn't know. A tear slid down his face, and he didn't even try to hide it.

But if this person didn't think he was going to put up a fight, they were sorely mistaken.

They charged, running at him with their knife in hand. Matthew dodged, which they had apparently been expecting, because they turned to face him immediately. They went in to stab him, and Matthew brought up an arm to block them.

He'd been in a few fights, back when he still lived in the suburbs. While it had been forever since the last one, he still remembered what to do.

He kept bringing his arm up to block the person, deflecting their blows. He kept his eye on their hand with the knife in it, making sure that it didn't come near him. His assailant artfully matched his moves, making him know he was up against someone who was more skilled than him, and significantly so. In fact, he was pretty sure they were toying with him.

His suspicions were proven correct when they suddenly swiped their leg under him, knocking him off his feet. In one skillful move, they had him pinned down, their knife raised above their head, right over his heart.

Surprisingly, Matthew felt one last burst of energy, and, with much more bravery than he thought he possessed, he grabbed the blade with his hands. He screamed in agony as it cut into his skin, and blood started running down his arms. He could tell that the person was surprised, as they froze.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, as blood gushed out of his wounds. In one burst of strength, Matthew used the other person's surprise to his advantage, and flipped them over. He released the knife, and, trying to ignore the pain in his hands, shoved the person off the roof. He didn't watch them fall, and shakily got to his feet. A little bit of hope had returned to him, as he looked for a way out.

The pain was almost unbearable, and he didn't look at his hands, out of fear that he'd pass out. He ran and jumped down onto the fire escape on the side of the building, and pulled at the door leading into the building. Or, rather, he tried to, as  _he couldn't move his fingers._

Surprisingly, he didn't freak out, and pushed the door handle down with his elbow. He stumbled inside.

He found himself in a hall, with apartment doors on either side of him. He bodyslammed the door shut, hoping that his assailant hadn't seen him enter. He slumped against the wall.

He took one look at his blood-soaked hands, and screamed. His blood covered them, and he couldn't even see the whiteness of his skin. However, the most shocking part was his wounds, which were so deep he could see the milky white of his bones.

He started hyperventilating as he gaped at them, trying not to puke. After a few seconds, he passed out, both from the blood loss and the shock, leaving a horrible surprise for the people who had come out of their homes to find the source of his scream.


	5. Mari

She got over her shock quickly.

She pointed her arm, and her grappling hook impeded itself in the building. She swung herself onto the top, only to find that he was gone.

Her eyes widened as she looked around the rooftop, seeing no trace of him. Until she noticed the trail of blood, that led straight off the side of the building.

She followed it, and found herself staring at a fire exit. Her stomach dropped as she realized what had happened; he had run inside the building. There was no way to follow him without getting herself caught.

Someone must've found him by now. Panicking, Mari grappled her way to the building across the road. She didn't have much time before the polis were called, and seeing how important Governor Sohinki was, they'd probably have a helicopter on her soon.

She ran faster than she ever had in her life. Stupid, stupid, she was so _stupid!_  She hadn't been expecting him to grab the knife, which had given him a chance to get away. She had failed. For the first time in her career, she'd _failed._

When she saw the district wall, she couldn't be happier. Grappling her way into Suburb District 1, she continued running. She needed to get to Boze.  _Boze._  Her friend would be so disappointed.

Mari tried to ignore the burning in her limbs as she reached their meeting spot, another abandoned garage. She lifted up the door, and jumped onto the back of Boze's bike.

"Drive!" Mari demanded, knowing that Boze could tell something was up.

She complied, slamming her foot on the gas. Mari pulled out her phone as they speed along the rode, and called Damien.

"Damien, I-" Her friend cut her off.

"I know," He replied. She could hear him frantically pressing keys in the background. "A warning has already been sent out. You can't use the checkpoint."

"What do we do?" Mari asked.

"You'll have to ditch the bike and grapple over the wall," he instructed. "Be careful."

She hung up.

The drive seemed to take twice as long as it usually did. When they neared the District wall, she tapped on Boze's shoulder.

"We need to ditch the bike," She told her friend.

Boze's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"I-" Mari's voice caught in her throat, and she had to blink tears out of her eyes. "I failed."

Boze stared at her for awhile. Mari could see the shock in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," She looked down. "I'm so sorry, Boze."

Boze didn't reply, turning her attention back to the road. Mari looked down, ashamed. How could she fail her friends like she had?

Boze swerved off the road, and into an alleyway. She pulled into a garage and parked the bike, angrily taking her helmet off. Mari followed suit.

Soon, the two women were off, running side by side. Boze wouldn't look at her, and Mari could almost feel the coldness her accomplice was radiating. She tried to keep her mind focused on the task, but she couldn't help but feel ashamed and disappointed in herself.

They reached the District Wall quickly. Boze leaned into her, and Mari wrapped her arm around her waist while pointing her left one at the wall. It was the first time Mari had carried someone else while grappling, but she managed to get both of them to the top of the wall safely.

There was one guard on patrol. Usually, Mari just knocked them out, but she didn't have enough time today. Before he'd even noticed them, she put an arrow through his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Mari jumped off the wall, and landed in the slums with a roll. Boze did the same, and then they were running through the slums, desperate to get home.

When they did, Mari couldn't be more relieved. She unlocked and threw open the door, and both women practically collapsed from exhaustion. Damien rushed out of the bedroom and hugged Boze, looking relieved. Mari leaned against the wall, holding her side, gasping for breath.

There was silence for a long time. No one knew what to say, how to act. This had never happened before. In the two years that they'd been doing this, Mari hadn't failed once. So, of course, she did on the most rewarding mission they'd ever performed.

She looked down at her bloodstained clothes. His blood. If only she'd been quicker, if only he hadn't reacted the way he had. No one died from wounds to the hand.

She wanted to cry. How could she fail? She had been cocky, not shooting him the minute he stopped. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how stupid she'd been.

"This isn't over," Damien stated out of the blue. "We're going to try again. We will kill him."

"How?" Boze asked. "This was the only chance we had. There's no way we'll be able to get back into the Elite District now."

"We'll find a way," He looked at Mari. "I know we will. This may be our first failure, but it damn well won't be the first time we give up. Not with five hundred thousand aurums on the line."

Mari looked at him, before standing up. "You're right. I'm going to do a hell of a lot more than cut his hands."

He smiled, before looking down at Boze. "Now, all we have to do is find a way back into the Elite District."

"How?" She asked. "How are we going to do that?"

"We'll figure out tomorrow," He replied. "I think we all need our sleep."

She could agree with him on that one. She was exhausted, and the mere idea of sleep was tantalizing. After she got changed, she slid into bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.

• • •

Mari had learned long ago that alcohol was the best way to forget about things.

As she watched a pit fight, a glass of whiskey in her hand, she tried her best to stay focused on the fight, on anything but her thoughts. Despite Damien's pep talk, she couldn't shake the disappointment she felt in herself. No matter what she did, she could never change the fact that she failed.

She took a hard drink from her glass. She couldn't wait until the alcohol kicked in, and took her mind off things. For now, she tried to focus on the fight below her.

It had just ended, and new challengers were coming on. She didn't recognize one of them, but the other...

Suddenly, Mari's interest was peaked. She smiled as she stared at the silver-haired man, who was waving at the crowd from the lowered dais he was standing on.  _Wes._

She hadn't seen him since her fighting days, when she had kicked his ass and somehow ended up in his bed in the course of three hours. She'd always been half-hoping to see him again, and here he was, right in front of her.

His opponent was minuscule compared to him, and Wes won easily. It wasn't a very exciting fight, and Mari wondered how Wes had even ended up facing that man. She caught his eyes, and gestured to the empty seat to her left. He smiled.

Soon after, he joined her. He looked exactly how she remembered, with his silver hair and big brown eyes. There was a small cut on his cheek, right along his sharp jawline.

"Atomic!" Wes smiled, that infuriating smile that made her want to smile too. "Long time no see!"

"It's been too long," Mari replied, taking a drink of her beverage while a server laid one on the table in front of Wes.

"It has," Wes agreed. "Things have gotten quite boring without you in the pits."

"I'm making much more money now," Mari leaned back in her chair. "I'm glad I left them."

"I know," Wes nodded. "Otherwise, you would've returned by now. But you haven't. Anthony must've taught you well."

"Don't mention him," Mari snapped. "Don't speak of him."

Realization washed over Wes' face. "Oh. Well, it's good to know that you're doing well."

"Are you?" Mari asked.

"I suppose so," Wes replied. "Though the pits aren't bringing me much joy anymore. Not since you left."

"Haven't faced any challenging opponents since me?" She asked playfully.

He leaned in. "Not by a long shot."

• • •

She woke up wrapped in his arms, his head nestled in the back of her neck. She leaned into him.

He tightened his hold around her and buried his head in her neck, leaving light kisses there. She didn't know if she had woken him up or if he had already been awake, but she didn't care. A light moan escaped her lips.

She traced her fingers over his black eye. Most of last night had been a blur for her, but she remembered the big details. How she and Wes had had a rematch, much to their spectator's enjoyment, and she had beaten him again. How he had pinned her to the wall outside the bar with his lips, and how they'd barely made it to his apartment with their clothes on. She smiled, and directed his lips to hers.

They stayed like that for awhile, just enjoying the simple contact they were sharing. Mari didn't really know how she felt about Wes. He wasn't a one-night-stand, not like Monica and the countless others she's slept with had been. But when she imagined herself in a relationship with him, a real relationship like Damien and Boze's, it just seemed wrong in her head. What they had right now, whatever it was, she wanted it to stay that way.

Eventually, he pulled away, making her whimper a bit. He brought his hand to her stomach. "You hungry?"

"A little," She admitted, giggling like a little girl. The second he said that, she realized how hungry she was; after all, she hadn't eaten dinner. She wasn't a stranger to hunger, though, which was why she didn't notice. Even though she'd been eating three meals almost every day for the past year, her body was still used to missing meals.

"I'll make us something," He caressed her cheek and brought his lips to her forehead.

Mari watched as he climbed out from under the sheets. She admired his nude body as he threw on his clothes, and she knew he knew she was watching him. "Knowing you, I probably shouldn't keep my expectations very high."

He rolled his eyes. He lived in a rather large apartment, at least by slums standards. The walls were a pretty sky blue, and he owned an oven, a sink, and a few cabinets. A few books were scattered on the floor, and along with the inflatable mattress she was lounging in, that seemed to be everything he owned.

She spotted a pamphlet on the ground, and reached at it. It was blue, with the words "servants wanted!" written on it in elegant writing.

"Wes?" She asked. "Whats this?"

He looked over at her from his cabinets. "An ad."

She skimmed through it. "You wanted to be a servant?"

"It's easy money," He replied. "And I've always wanted to see the Aristocrat and Elite districts."

Her head shot up. "You can get into the Elite District with this?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Of course you can. They're the people who need servants the most."

"Have they closed it, after what happened to Governor Sohinki?" She asked. It was common knowledge by now that she had tried to assassinate him, as some polis had come into the district to investigate last night.

"No," Wes replied. "But there's an extreme vetting process. They won't even let you in, seeing as you used to be an arena fighter."

"Is that why they denied you?" She asked, taking a guess.

Wes sighed. "No. They said I looked too threatening."

She chuckled and brought her attention back to the pamphlet. Her record was nothing; Damien could just clear it.

"Do you think I look threatening?" She asked him.

He smiled. "To someone who doesn't know what you're capable of? I doubt it."

She felt giddy. She rushed over to him and kissed him, apparently taking him by surprise. She couldn't believe her luck.

She'd found a way back into the Elite District.


	6. Matthew

He awoke to a beeping noise.

Matthew groggily opened his eyes, blinking profusely as they adjusted to the light. He sat up, and could instantly tell he was in a hospital. The room was white, there was a heart-beat monitor, and he was sitting in a hospital bed.

For a few seconds, he was confused. Why would he be in a hospital? Then his memories returned.

A hooded figure. A rooftop chase. A knife. Pain. Blood. So much blood.

Instantly, Matthew looked down at his hands. They were wrapped in white gauze, so tightly that he couldn't move his fingers. Not that he could, if his memory was correct. There was no way that his tendons hadn't been severed after he'd grabbed that knife.

He started hyperventilating as he thought of it. Would he ever be able to use his hands again? Prosthetics weren't that advanced yet. If he lost his hands... he couldn't even imagine it. He would lose everything.

The heart-rate monitor started to go crazy as Matthew panicked. Someone had tried to  _kill_  him! He wasn't safe here. It would be easy for someone to come in and smother him with a pillow; without his hands, he was defenseless.

If his memory served correct, he wasn't safe anywhere. Somehow, someone had managed to hack into his security system, locking him out of his own home. If they could do that, then there was no way Matthew would be able to escape them. 

He'd have to hire bodyguards, have them watch him at all times, even when he slept. But bodyguards weren't foolproof; someone could easily shoot him from the top of a roof whenever he was outside, and could take out his guards if they were skilled; which he knew they were. They could also attach a bomb to his car, or gas his workplace, or shoot him through a window one of his servants left open for air-

The door opened, and Matthew almost screamed, assuming the worst. But it was only two nurses, checking to see if he was alright. One checked his pulse, while the other wrote down what the first was saying on a clipboard. Matthew just sat there, letting the two women do their job, his mind still going haywire as he thought of all the ways someone could kill him, and how he could stop them.

The first nurse placed her hand on his shoulder, and stared him in the eyes. "Govoner, you have to calm down. Your heart rate is far too high. The last thing you need right now is to have a panic attack, okay?"

He couldn't help but feel a little intimidated, as the nurse had muscular arms and an angry expression on her face. He nodded, and the women withdrew her hand and stood up, exiting the room. 

"The doctor will be here soon," The other nurse squeaked, giving him a meek smile. "The panic button is on the underside of your left armrest. Press it if there's an emergency!"

Then she rushed out of the room, almost dropping her clipboard as she hurried after the other nurse. Matthew could see why; if he was that woman's partner, he'd be doing everything he could to not piss her off.

Matthew leaned back against the headboard, taking deep breaths, trying to do what the nurse had asked of him. He closed his eyes, trying to think about his work, as he waited for the doctor.

She arrived quickly, wearing a doctor's coat with a clipboard in her hands. She had short, black hair that had a little bit of red dyed in with it, and gave him a small smile as she sat down in a chair to his left.

"Hello, Governor Sohinki," She extended her hand. "I'm Dr. Horton, and I'll be treating you during your stay here."

He took her hand. He'd heard of Dr. Horton before. She was one of the most educated, talented doctors in Kolea. She was most famous for finding the cure and cause of Telania, a deadly disease that people contracted from eating pickled plumberries, which had been a common delicacy among people in the Suburban Districts. She was hailed as a hero, who only treated the most important of people. As a Govoner, he made that list.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, pulling a pen out of her pocket. She started scribbling things down on her clipboard; he assumed the information she was seeing on the machines surrounding him.

"Bad," Matthew replied. Normally, he would've had a better answer, but at the moment, his brain was scrambled, and he could barely have a coherent thought. "What happened to me?"

Dr. Horton frowned. "We don't know. We were hoping you could tell us, if you remember anything."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Matthew asked angrily. "There were cameras on almost every roof. They  _must've_ caught something."

"All rooftop cameras in a mile radius of your residence were turned off," Dr. Horton explained. "Hacked from an untrackable location. However, we know they were from the slums; a border guard was found dead the day after you were attacked."

Matthew let out a breath. Whoever he was up against either had a knack for computers, or had a friend who did. Both were rare for someone from the slums; as far as he knew, none of them could afford computers. And if the person who had attacked him did have that kind of money, it made him wonder why they were even in the slums in the first place.

"Do you remember anything about your attacker?" Dr. Horton asked. "Any physical features? Body type?"  
  
Matthew thought about it. The person had worn a black cloak, and had goggles covering their eyes. He hadn't seen anything that he could use to recognize someone.

"They were short," Matthew remembered. "Below average for both sexes."  
  
"That's it?" Dr. Horton asked.

Matthew nodded. "They had worn a very concealing disguise."  
  
Dr. Horton nodded. "Okay. The polis will be here later questioning you. Hopefully, you'll remember some more features of your attacker before they arrive."

Matthew sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the polis. The law enforcers of this country had treated him like shit his entire life, until he married Courtney and started gaining public support for his campaign. All of a sudden, they treated him like royalty. He hated them.

"How long have I been out for?" Matthew asked.

"Three days," Dr. Horton replied. 

 _Three days_. Who knew what he could've missed! In his profession, a wasted day could cost you everything. For all he knew, David had come forward about his blackmailing, or Shayne had bombed Fenzea. 

"What's happened since I've been out?" He asked, the heart rate monitor showing the burst of panic that was spreading throughout him.

"Nothing important," Dr. Horton responded. "There was a riot in the Aristocrat district over Keith Leak Jr.'s death, but nothing was destroyed."  
  
"In the Aristocrat district?" Matthew asked. That was rare; usually, the Aristocrat district's members left the district to protest, or convinced people in the Suburb districts to do it for them. The celebrities of this country were some of the laziest people Matthew had ever met.

Dr. Horton nodded. "They were led by Noah Grossman, Keith's fiancè. He's convinced that you and his would-be husband were attacked by the same person, mainly because they both attacked from the rooftops. He'd managed to convince a lot of his peers of his argument."  
  
Matthew rubbed his eyes. Great. Some grieving young man had already used his attack to suit his own movement. That was precisely the news Matthew had wanted to hear.

Dr. Horton brought her hand up to her ear. "Oh. Your wife's here, Govoner. Should I let her in?"  
  
Matthew sighed. He knew that Courtney was only here for appearances, but it was one that he needed to have her uphold. "Yes."

Dr. Horton nodded and stood up, exiting the room. A few seconds later, Courtney rushed in, her hair a mess, like she'd rushed out of bed the second she'd heard the news that he was awake. He checked the clock resting on the bedside table, which read 7:30 am, which was earlier than Courtney usually woke up. But he knew that was just part of the act; if there was one thing Courtney cared about more than anything, it was her appearance.

"Oh, Matthew, honey, thank god you're alright!" She sat down in the chair next to his bed. "I was so worried!"

"I'm glad to be alright," Matthew joked. The second the door closed, Courtney clasped his hands, examining them.

"You'll be able to use them soon, right?" She asked.

"According to the doctor, yeah," Matthew replied, letting her manhandle his hands. He couldn't feel anything below his elbow, which he considered a blessing.

"Good," She replied. "You'd be useless without them."  
  
There was a time when her words would've stung, but that time ended a long time ago. Now, her words washed over him, not affecting him at all.

"I know," He replied.

"Who did it?" She asked. "Did you see their face? Recognize them?"

Matthew knew that the only reason she was asking was because she was worried that she might be the assassin's next target. Matthew had already decided that it was an assassin. There was no other reason why anyone from the slums would want him dead; they had no interest in politics, as they couldn't vote. However, killing someone for money; that was more than likely.

Which meant, if he wanted to stop them, they'd need to increase border security. He'd have to bring that up at the next board meeting.

"No," Matthew replied. "I have no idea who it was."

Courtney let out a breath. "That's... unfortunate."

"It is," He agreed, looking away from the blonde-haired woman. An air of uncomfortableness hanged around the married couple. Courtney dropped his hands, apparently done examing them.

They sat in silence, both knowing that it would look bad if she left before she was told too. A wife who really cared about her husband would've spent every second she could with him.

Courtney pulled out her phone, and started tapping the screen, probably playing a game; it wasn't like she could go on social media. Matthew wished he could do the same, and looked out the window. In the early morning, the Elite District was almost deserted, the streets devoid of pedestrians and cars. Luckily, the hospital was near the ocean, and he watched the waves crash into the shore, trying to spot any marine life in the everlasting ocean.

Eventually, much to Matthew's relief, the door opened. Courtney quickly pocketed her phone. If Dr. Horton noticed, she didn't say anything.

"The polis are here to take your statement, Govoner Sohinki," The doctor said. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sohinki, but you'll have to leave."

He could see Courtney bristle at the title; she hated being called Mrs. Sohinki, preferring to be called by her maiden name. However, the blonde was skilled at forcing a smile onto her face, and kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll see you soon," She stated, clasping his forearm, before exiting the room. Dr. Horton stepped to the side to let her out, before closing the door.

Matthew wasn't left alone for very long. Soon, a dark-skinned man dressed in a blue polis outfit entered the room, accompanied by a man with a very short beard. The two officers sat down on either side of him, and Matthew couldn't stop himself from feeling threatened. After all, one of his best friends had been beaten by the polis right in front of him when he was a teenager. It was impossible to not feel he was in danger. 

"Hello, Govoner Sohinki," The bearded man offered his hand, before realizing his mistake. "I'm Officer Bereta, and that's Officer Ricketts. We're going to ask you some questions about the events that took place three days ago."  
  
"Ask away," Matthew sighed, leaning back into the backboard. This was going to be painful.


	7. Mari

Mari fiddled with her fingers as she waited.

There were four other women in the waiting room, and no men. They were all wearing their best clothes, which weren't much. Most had holes in their dresses.

Mari was wearing the only dress she owned, which had been her mother's. Its rosy design was faded, and there were a few rips in the seams near her feet, but it was the best she had. Dresses weren't exactly a common clothing item in the slums; they were hard to move in, and seeing as an average day here was full of fights and hard labour, they were just impractical.

Mari stroked some of her hair. Boze had died it brown this morning, using a tub of sink water. She'd barely finished in time, and Mari's hair was still a bit wet. She could only hope that it wouldn't hurt her chances. Luckily, Boze had done an amazing job; she had been a hairdresser before Mari met her, and it showed.

She surveyed her competitors. One had a black eye, which would probably eliminate her. Another woman looked like she was going to throw up from her nerves, and the other two looked like Mari assumed she looked like herself. Somewhat calm and collected, professional. If she had to guess, the three of them were the only ones who had a chance. She knew how rich people thought; she'd been hired by many.

It hadn't been too hard to get this interview. The Aristocrat and Elite Districts were clamoring for servants, and seeing as they rejected almost everyone they interviewed, they always needed new applicants. All Mari needed to do was show up at the Application Building, which was located right along the border wall, and they had given her an interview date in a blink of an eye. Mari wasn't complaining.

Damien had already wiped her record, and replaced it with new information. The only thing he hadn't changed was her name; that was too easy to screw up. All it would take would be her not responding to the persona quickly enough, and everything could fall apart.

Her entire history, though; he had changed all of it. She played out the story in her head. _I was born in the wealthiest part of the slums. My parents were servants for a past Govoner. I have been a bartender at the Spearmint Rhino for the past seven years. I have never been in a relationship._

It was similar to her real history, yet so different. Her mother had been a servant, but her father had been a pit fighter. They had lived in the second wealthiest part of the slums. She had worked at the Spearmint Rhino, but in her father's profession. And never being in a relationship? If Mari pictured it really hard, she could still feel Anthony's lips on her neck, and his hand in hers.

She quickly shook the thought from her head, instead focusing on what Wes had told her about the interviewing process, which hadn't been much. According to him, they'd taken one look at him, and instantly turned him away. In a way, that was reassuring; if they didn't want her, they'd tell her so.

The door to the room opened, causing the scared woman to jump in her seat. A woman stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand.

"Quinta Brunson," The woman called. A short, dark-skinned woman stood up, and followed the woman out the door. If Mari had to guess, she'd say they were going in alphabetical order, which probably meant that it would be a while before they got to her.

Twenty minutes later, the woman returned, without Quinta. "Kalel Cullen."  
  
The terrified woman shot up, and followed the woman into the next room. Two minutes later, the woman came back. "Stephine Patrick."

That woman lasted thirty minutes. The woman resurfaced. "Mariko Takahashi."

Mari stood up, flattening her dress, and followed the woman through the door. She found herself in a small room, with a brown-haired woman sitting behind a desk. She looked Mari up and down, before typing something onto the computer next to her. The woman who Mari had followed into the room gestured to the chair in front of the desk, and Mari sat down.

"Name?" The interviewer asked.

"Markio Takahashi," Mari replied.

"Age?"

"Twenty-one."

"Residence?"

"251 Smosh St."

"Roommates?"

"Ericka Bozeman and Damien Haas."

"Previous government-recognized relationships?"  
  
"None."

"Why are you applying to become a servant?"

"I aim to please my betters."

"Any person you want to serve?"

"I will serve anyone who has use of me."

Damien had hacked into the interviewing script a few days prior, and looked into what responses they preferred. Mari had spent hours reciting them, making sure that she'd look perfect enough that they'd accept her, but not perfect enough that they'd expect something.

"You will do anything for the person you serve?"  
  
"As long as it doesn't involve the harming of anyone."

The woman pursed her lips. Mari knew that it was preferred that she included a 'besides myself' in there, but she knew that that would've been too good of a response.

"Any experience in any service jobs in the past?"  
  
"I have been a bartender for the past seven years, and my parents were both servants."

"Have you ever been involved in any criminal activity?" The woman stared into Mari's eyes on this one, her fingers freezing over the keyboard.

Mari stared right back, her expression unchanging. "No."

The woman typed some things into the computer, before pulling some paper out of a filing cabinet. "You have passed your first line of questioning. Please sign these papers."

Mari noticed the Hecox family symbol on the top of the page, which didn't surprise her; they were, after all, the owners of the servant business, which had made them billionaires. While she hated the idea of making someone even richer off her work, this was Mari's only shot at getting close to Matthew Sohinki ever again. Knowing that she wasn't expected to read the document, Mari flipped through it, signing every time she saw a line.

"Return to this building at 7:30 am tomorrow," The woman said after Mari handed her the paper. She glanced at the woman's computer as she filed the document, and noticed the woman's name at the top bar; Melissa Hecox. It seemed she was sitting in front of one of the famous Hecoxs themselves. Anyone else would've felt honored; Mari would've felt honored to punch the woman in the face. "If you are a second late, you will not be accepted. Understand?"  
  
"Yes," Mari replied. The other woman gestured to a door to her left, and Mari exited the room. Once she exited the building, she almost did a victory dance. She'd made it through round one. of course, round two would be a lot more difficult, but it was a small victory that most people did not achieve.

Boze was waiting for her, lounging on their motorcycle. Thankfully, Flitz had retrieved it for them. The second Boze had touched her precious bike, she had forgiven Mari for failing. She smiled when she saw Mari's happy expression. 

Mari climbed onto the bike, and together, the two women sped home. Mari would need all the sleep she could get; she would need all the energy she could muster for tomorrow.

• • •

Boze dropped her off at the Application Building. Mari stepped inside, trying to calm her nerves. Today, she would be taking a lie detector test, the last step she'd need to take before being accepted into the servant program.

She was led back into the waiting room. This time, there were only two other women, who Mari recognized as Quinta and Stephanie. The three woman waited in silence, trying to avoid each other's gazes.

They were called quickly, and soon, Mari was left alone. She combed her fingers through her hair, trying to distract herself. Damien had already hacked into the building's cameras, and would know when she was hooked up to the machine. Still, she could screw it up. Failing to kill Matthew had done serious damage to her self-esteem, and self-doubt was plaguing her. After all, if she fucked up, she would be killed instantly. It made sense that she was worried.

Soon, she was called. Mari stood up, following the woman into a different room than the one she'd been in yesterday. This one contained another table, with a machine that was a mess of wires laying on it. A man sat behind the desk, and gestured to the chair next to him.

Mari sat down, and the man started to hook her up, clasping a cuff onto her upper arm and clipping laundry line looking machines onto her fingers. Once he was all done, he pressed a button, and the machine came to life. Mari took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"What's your name?" The man asked, his voice gruff.

"Mariko Takahashi."

"Where do you live?"  
  
"251 Smosh St."

"Where do you work?"

"The Spearmint Rhino."  
  
Damien had already given her a step-by-step instruction of how it worked. They started out with easy questions, to collect her vitals, and then started to ask the real questions. Damien could control what the machine said about her sweat levels, but not the heart-rate monitor. Seeing as the machine's operator was looking at that, Damien couldn't change it in time. It was up to Mari to keep her heart rate controlled.

"Have you ever committed a crime?"

"No," Mari looked straight ahead, keeping her breathing rates the same. No one said anything, which made Mari think that she'd gotten away with it.

"Why are you becoming a servant?"

"To serve my betters."

"Do you have any malicious intentions against anyone you could end up serving?"

"No."

"Do you have a history with anyone you could end up serving?"

"No."

"Does anyone you know have a history with someone you could end up serving?"

"No."

"Do you know anything about the attack on Govoner Sohinki five days ago?" Luckily, Mari had been expecting that question; it wouldn't have made any sense if they hadn't asked it. Whoever had attacked Govoner Sohinki was the biggest threat to the Government at the moment, and they knew they were from the slums. Unbeknownst to them, that person was sitting in one of their buildings, with their machine hooked up to her arm, cheating their last line of defense against her.  
  
"No."

The man nodded to the woman, and she started writing something down. The man started unhooking Mari from the machine.

"Mariko Takahashi," The woman started the second the man finished. Mari was glad that the machine was off, because her heart was going crazy. "You have been accepted as a servant of Kolea. You will start serving two days from now. Arrive at this building at 7:30 pm. If you are late, you will be left behind. Understood?"  
  
"Yes," Mari replied, trying to keep her face neutral, though she could barely contain a smile from spreading across her face.

The woman gestured to the door, and Mari quickly exited the building, letting herself smile the second she did. She kissed and hugged Boze when she saw her, making the other woman laugh and hug her back, already knowing what had happened.

The rest day went by in a blur. She could remember Damien being ecstatic, and going to the Spearmint Rhino to celebrate. She remembered taking one too many shots, and running into Wes, who had been delighted at the good news.

As she leaned into Wes' chest, spreading her fingers across his naked torso, she couldn't help but smile to herself, despite her small hangover. She'd done it. She was going back into the Elite District; legally, for once in her life.

Matthew Sohinki better watch his back. She was coming for him. And she was going to do a hell lot more than cut his hands this time. Mark her words, she was going to have that man's life even if it would cost her her own.


	8. Matthew

Matthew didn't want to get out of bed.

He'd been let out of the hospital a few days prior; there had been no real reason to keep him there, after all. It wasn't like he was on life support. Dr. Horton had shown him a few exercises that would help his hands heal, and sent him on his way.

Ever since, he'd been bored out of his mind.

By law, he wasn't allowed to return to work until he was in full health. He'd been livid when he'd learned about it (the first thing he was going to do when he got back was repel it). He could understand forcing someone to stay away if they couldn't perform their job with their injury, but he was beyond capable of working. Making him stay at home was wasting his time.

He'd been forced to send Joven in his absence, and seeing as microphones weren't allowed on the panel, he had no way to communicate with his friend. He trusted Joven with all his heart - the two men had been friends since they were five - but he had no way of making sure Joven said the right thing or kept his ground against the other four. Matthew was completely shut off, and it fucking  _sucked._

Matthew lived for his job; the constant debating, thinking, strategizing... he loved every second of it. It was why he had always dreamed of being a Govoner. Staying cooped up in his home was the stark opposite of his work; he never had to do anything for himself, never had to think, to even move. It was horrible.

He'd tried to distract himself with television shows, but he couldn't get wrapped up in any of the plots. All he could see were the inconsistencies, the unrealism, the bad writing, the clichès. Most of the shows in Kolea were action, which all seemed to have the same plot. The characters felt phony to him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't enjoy them. 

Not to mention the fact that they were all pretty sexist, with the woman always being the one that needed to be saved, the damsel in distress. Matthew hated that. He'd always been attracted to strong women, ones who could beat him up easily. He'd also always loved intelligent women. Most of the female characters on the screen in front of him were neither of those things, which not only made them feel fake, but their romances as well. He couldn't imagine any man who would even glance, let alone fall in love with, a weak, ditzy girl.

After that failed, he moved on to talking with his staff and wife. He spoke to them, and even tried to play board games (he'd just say whatever place he wanted his piece to move to). That was better, but not enough. None of their minds worked like his, and he found himself having to dumb down his moves to make their games of chess and checkers last more than ten minutes. As for talking, well, his staff would only give polite, short answers, which didn't make them compelling conversational partners in the slightest. Courtney was even worse.

Initially, he'd thought that this might be good for his marriage; without work, he and Courtney had all the time in the world. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Courtney was used to being in the house all day; she had a routine. And he was in the way of it. He could tell that every time he spoke to her, she was just waiting for him to leave. Eventually, he just gave up trying, and they returned to barely talking to one another. He supposed it was better that way.

Gradually, his hand was healing. After two weeks, he could move his right thumb, and his left two days later. The rest of his fingers took another week, but he could barely move them. It would take another week, Dr. Horton promised him during her weekly checkups, before he could move them entirely.

The only good part of his days was Joven's weekly updates on the panel meetings. He'd spend hours with his raven-haired friend, talking over every part of them. The other governor's plans, the problems they were addressing, what their responses should be. It was the only way Matthew could stay connected to his work, and he lived for it.

Joven also told him about the other part of his job; assigning the people they blackmailed tasks. That was the most tedious part of their operation, one that required more attention than everything else. But in these conversations, they weren't talking about what these people could do  _for_  them, but instead, what they could do  _to_ them.

Matthew was convinced that it was one of the people who he was blackmailing that had hired the assassin. It was the only explanation; they were the only ones with a clear motive. But the list was far from short. Matthew had dirt on over a hundred people.

Everyone was a suspect. Matthew's main one was David; not only was he a member of an opposing political party, but Matthew's photos would ruin both his career and marriage. That was more than enough motivation. But the only problem with that theory was that Matthew had confronted him on the same day he was attacked. Unless David had connections with someone in the slums, which was highly unlikely, there was no way he could hire them that quickly.

Who else could it be? Sarah Whittle, in a desperate attempt to conceal her infidelity from her husband? No. If that were the case, then she would've done it a long time ago; he'd been blackmailing her for four years, ever since he was elected.

Keith Habersberger, an actor who was sleeping with one of his maids, something that could completely destroy his reputation? Possibly, though he didn't strike Matthew as the kind of person who would kill someone over that.

He went over everyone in his head, thinking intensely over each one. But he couldn't come up with a definite suspect. Everyone was too likely. In this country, your reputation was everything; people would do anything to keep it intact. Even kill a man. 

For the first time in his life, Matthew wondered if he had made the right choice by deciding to blackmail people. Had it really been worth it, if it could cost him his life? 

He quickly shook the thought from his mind. If he'd never started blackmailing anyone, he'd never have achieved anything. He'd still been living in the suburbs, an intern for everyone in the Iustitia party, dreaming of a day when he'd sit in the highest office. Of course it was worth it; it had brought him everything.

Usually, Matthew would've gone on the roof to think about it, but after what happened, he'd never go up there again. Heck, he was scared to open a window. In fact, he was scared to fall asleep some nights. He pushed chairs up against his door and locked the window with a deadbolt. He couldn't help but feel like he was in danger, and being cooped up in his apartment made him feel like a waiting duck, an easy target.

On the thirty-fifth day of his confinement in his home, he woke up one day, and did his usual test of his fingers. This consisted of trying to curl them. To his absolute delight, instead of feeling the usual disappointment, he could curl them all the way down, making a fist.

He practically shouted in joy, sitting up immediately, wiggling his fingers. He could barely believe it; they were back! His fingers were back!

After running around his room, picking up and putting down everything he could find, he grabbed his phone and called Dr. Horton. A few minutes later, she was at his doorstep. She made him perform a few tests, making him pick up a glass, make hand gestures, things like that, just to make sure he wasn't lying (that wasn't the explanation she gave him, but Matthew knew that it was the real reason behind her actions). After she was satisfied, she gave Matthew the best news of his life; that she was going to fill out the paperwork that would allow him to go back to work.

Courtney was ecstatic when she heard the news, glad to have him out of her hair. Joven was happy too; he didn't like the pressure that was put on his shoulders by being an honorary Govoner and was glad to have it lifted. It was for the best; Joven had made a horribale Govoner, something which the man himself admitted.

That night, Matthew hired bodyguards, two men named Ned and Eugene. They were easy to find; there was a program in the slums that many people signed their children up for, training them from a young age to be bodyguards for the rich. In all honesty, Matthew wasn't a fan of the program; it ripped children from their desperate parent's arms and raised them as killing machines. But it was the only place where Matthew could hire bodyguards, and he was desperate for them.

The next day, Matthew returned to work. No one treated him any differently than normal, which Matthew appreciated; the last thing he wanted to do was be fussed over. Though some people did give Ned strange looks (Eugene had been left outside, watching the surrounding buildings for any sign of archers).

He got off at his floor, leaving Ned at the door. His office hadn't changed a bit. Matthew sat down, a grin spreading across his face as he ran his wingers over the wooden desktop. God, how he had missed this place.

He had a lot of work on his plate; reports to write, meetings to attend, bills to draw out. He blew through them quickly, even having time to spare. Time passed so quickly, that before he knew it, it was time to go home.

Courtney was waiting for him, a piece of paper in her hands. She handed it to him, and Matthew read it. The paper's frame was made of circles, the words written in an elogant font. Matthew barely even had to look at it to know it was an invitation.

"What's this for?" He asked.

"It's an invitation from the Pax party," Courtney explained. "Well, Govner Sui to be exact. They're throwing a party to celebrate your recovery."  
  
Of course they were. The Pax party was known for their kindness. Their platform was one built off of equality, compassion, and empathy. Celebrating a rival's recovery would make them seem like saints. The press they'd get from the event would be humongous.

"Great," Matthew sighed, knowing he had no choice but to attend. Denying their invitation would ruin his reputation, and no amount of blackmailing would be able to save it.

"Isn't it?" Courtney asked sarcastically, ripping the page from his hands. "I'll deal with it, of course. All you have to do is show up."

Matthew watched her walk down the hallway, her words not even affecting him anymore. He called Ariel, one of his maids, and told her to bring Ned and Eugene to their rooms in the servant's quarters. Then he made his way to bed, wishing he could go up on the roof, and feel the cold wind blow through his hair. Nothing saddened him more than the thought that he'd never be able to do so again.

He lay in bed for hours, trying to fall asleep. All he could think about was this party. He's always hated publicity events, but this one just felt... off. Something in his gut was telling him that attending would be a bad idea.

 _It's just because you're jumpy,_  Matthew reassured himself.  _Stop looking for things that aren't there. It's just a stupid party. Nothing bad is going to happen._

With those words echoing in his mind, Matthew slowly dozed off into oblivion, with no idea of how wrong he was.


	9. Mari

While she looked up at the building in front of her, Mari couldn't help but feel scared.

For the past week or so, all she could think about was getting back into the Aristocrat District, getting back to her target. But for the first time, she thought about what would happen to her while she was there. How would she get there? What would she be expected to do? How would she be treated?

She wished she'd pressed Damien for more details; all he'd told her was the basics. That she would be serving aristocrats, either as a maid or a waitress. He'd told her nothing of the technicalities, and Mari was completely in the dark.

Boze knew her well and could sense her hesitation, probably because she hadn't gotten off the motorcycle yet. She turned to look at her. "Hey, you'll be fine. You're Mari Takahashi. You can do anything."  
  
While her words really did nothing to help Mari's confidence, they brought a small smile to her lips. "Thanks, Boze."

"Your welcome," Boze smiled. "Now go. You're going to be late."

Mari did as she instructed, taking off her helmet and hopping off the back seat. She hugged Boze goodbye. She didn't know how long it would be until she saw either Boze or Damien again, and knew she would miss them immensely.

Then Boze was gone, speeding down the road towards their home, and Mari was alone. She took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her hair, flattened her dress, and made her way into the building.

The receptionist lady looked up at her. "Mari Takahashi, I assume?"  
  
Mari nodded. "That's me."

"You're almost late." The receptionist lady pointed at the door which Mari knew led into the waiting room. "Let's hope your habits improve. Wait in there."  
  
"Thank you," Mari forced a smile on her face, trying to squash the urge to punch the woman in the face. If this was any indication of how she'd be treated in the Aristocrat District, then she'd probably end up killing more than one person.

In the waiting room were Quinta and Stephanie, along with five other women who must've been interviewed before Mari. One of them looked familiar, and it didn't take Mari to remember her. It was Monica, looking as pretty as ever. Mari hadn't seen her since their one-night-stand.

There weren't any seats that weren't next to anyone, so Mari took the one next to her.

"Hi," Mari told her. It was nice to have someone she recognized, even if it was someone she knew next to nothing about.

"Oh, hey," Monica smiled, a look of relief on her face. "Nice to see you again."  
  
They engaged in small talk for a few minutes, until the door opened. Melissa Hecox stood in the doorframe, a bodyguard on either side of her.

"Listen up, ladies," She started to explain. "We are now going to travel to the Aristocrat District. We will be taking a bus. There are some rules. You are allowed to talk to one another, but at whisper level only. You are not allowed to move from your seat without permission. You will do exactly what you're told too. If you do not comply with these rules, you will be executed. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
They all nodded, too scared to speak. Melissa wasn't a very threatening woman (she was short and had limbs that were as thin as sticks) but her bodyguards were more than terrifying enough to get the message across.

"I want to hear you say it," Melissa commanded.

Instantly, all eight women shouted "yes" at the exact same moment.

"Good," She nodded. "Now, get into a single file line and follow me."

She led them out of the building and into a small bus. Mari had never been in a car before. Looking at the outside made it hard to believe that it could actually move, as it was so big. The inside was as big as her bedroom, the seats comfier than her bed.

She sat down next to Monica, in the window seat. Both women watched in awe as the engine started up, and they started to move. It was crazy, seeing the passing landscape without the tinted plastic of her motorcycle helmet, or feeling the wind blowing against her.

They drove straight through the security checkpoint, not even bothering to stop. Usually, when Mari passed through the Suburbs, she never got a chance to appreciate the view. It was pretty, passing the streets of houses, with perfectly paved sidewalks and even trees and grass. The shops were small and lovely, and Mari's mouth watered as she stared at the candy shop. She'd never had candy before in her life, and it was something she always wanted to try.

It was a long ride. Eventually, the view got boring. She talked to Monica for a bit, but that didn't last long; both women were a bundle of nerves, and could barely speak. Eventually, Mari just leaned against the window, feeling the vibrations from the car driving over the road. The bus was a lot slower than Boze's motorcycle, and Mari found herself wishing that they would speed up.

Eventually, the finally reached it; the Aristocrat District. Mari's interest was peaked again the second they drove beyond the border wall.

The downtown area of the District was an assault on your eyes. The buildings were tall, made of all sorts of materials that she didn't recognize. Giant television screens showed ads, full of flashing colors. Store signs were big and eye-catching, the cars painted with strange designs, none of them similar. People wore all sorts of clothes, ranging from similar to her own to dresses that looked like a unicorn had vomited on them. She'd only seen the district at night; in the day, it was an entirely different world.

She and Monica watched, mouths open in amazement, as the drove through the district. Eventually, they pulled into the driveway of a tall, white building, and into an underground parking garage.

Melissa stood up from the front of the car. "Listen up! You will exit the car orderly, and follow me. Do not make a sound."

They did as she asked, carefully climbing out of their seats. They walked out of the bus, their footsteps the only sound that could be heard.

They found themselves in a giant parking lot. Similar buses to the one they had just ridden in took up most of the spaces, along with many that must've belonged to employees. Mari noticed that they were all resting on pressure pads, carved into the ground. She'd heard about the parking system here, how most buildings had a way to push cars straight from the parking lot and up to the ground. She assumed that those plates had something to do with it.

Melissa led them up a flight of stairs, and onto the ground level. It was a beautiful room, with a silver chandelier, wide windows, and a velvet carpet. All eight of them were breath taken.

"All right," Melissa turned. "This is where we part ways. You will be separated, get your photos taken, fill out your portfolios, and assigned rooms. You will all be assigned masters soon. Wait here."  
  
And with that, the short brown-haired woman walked off, leaving them alone with her bodyguards. Mari stayed near Monica's side, hanging on to her only piece of familiarity. She was too scared to talk to her.

Soon, another woman approached them. She had a kind face, and flowing black hair. She was flanked by a shorter woman.

"Hello, recruits!" She gave them all a dazzling smile. Mari had no idea that anyone's teeth could be that white. "Welcome to the Aristocrat District! I'm Chantel, and this is Jen. We'll be your guides."

"Now, if you'd follow us," Jen said, combing her short black hair out of her face. "We're going to get your pictures taken and your portfolios filled out. These will help you get hired."  
  
"Which will happen soon!" Chantel promised. "There's a huge demand for servants; always has been."

With those words, the two women turned and started walking away. The eight of them quickly followed. Mari didn't like these women very much; their bubbling enthusiasm felt fake. She assumed that she should appreciate that they were trying to make her feel more comfortable, but she would've preferred that they just acted truthfully.

They led them into an elevator, which Mari had never been in before. It was kind of terrifying, feeling herself move without having an escape point. She was glad when it ended.

Chantel and Jen led them through a hallway, and into a room covered in mirrors. Chairs laid in front of long tables, which had tubes and cans littered on them. A few people were already there, wearing smocks with scissors in their hands.

A silence fell over them the second they saw the newcomers. Chantel turned to Mari's group.

"If you all would just sit down," Chantel gestured to the empty seats. "We're going to do your hair and makeup, make sure you look presentable in your photos."  
  
They did as she asked. The second she sat down, one of the people wearing smocks swooped down on her. Mari could do nothing but sit there as the woman started to fuss over her, spewing things that smelt like chemicals on her face and hair. Powder, gloss, sprays... was this something that people in the district regularly did to themselves? To Mari, it seemed unnecessary and absurd.

Then the woman stepped back, and Mari got a chance to look at herself in the mirror. She could barely believe her eyes. Staring back at her was a woman she didn't recognize. Her eyes looked too big, her lips too red, her skin too clear. No one in the Slums ever thought about their appearance, as everyone was too focused on survival. Mari wasn't an exception. But seeing this version of her, this flawless version, made her feel self-conscious.

The smock lady gestured for her to stand up, and Mari complied. She followed the lady to another small room, which looked like a closet. Dresses and suits lined the walls.

The woman rummaged through them for a bit, before returning with a pure white one. She pressed it against Mari and looked at her for a bit, before nodding. She dropped it into Mari's hands.

"Put this on," The woman instructed. Mari could detect a Fenzean accent in her voice. "Before finding Chantel."

Mari didn't respond and watched the woman exit the room. She quickly put on the outfit, which was soft and felt far too expensive for her tastes, before exiting the closet and finding Chantel.

Chantel led her out of the room, down a hallway, and into a small room. Lining the back wall was a green sheet. A chair was resting in front of it, and a man holding a camera was standing in front of it all.

"Just sit down and smile," Chantel smiled. "This won't take long."  
  
Mari did as she asked, sitting down on the chair and flattening the desk. She smiled a smile she hoped didn't look fake, and tried not to blink when the camera flashed.

"There we go," Chantel smiled. "Now, c'mon, let's wait for the others."

Mari followed her back to the makeup room, where she was directed to a sink, where she washed off her makeup. She waited on a wooden bench, watching the other's as they went through the same process she'd just undergone.

Once everyone was finished, Chantel stood up in front of them. "Now, if you all would follow me."

Everyone stood up, and followed her to the elevator. "We'll be taking you to your rooms. Dinner will be served shortly. You won't be staying here long; just until you get hired."

The elevator stopped, and Chantel stepped out. Lining the hallway were doors, each with it's own number. A few had pieces of paper taped to the front.

"Your room will have your name on it," Chantel explained. "I'll see you all at dinner!"  
  
It didn't take Mari very long to find her room. It wasn't large, probably only 4x4 meters at most. The only furniture it contained was a bed and a chair, which had a simple dress thrown on top of it.

Mari brushed her fingers over the mattress, before sitting down. She'd never slept on a real mattress before, and she could barely believe how comfy it was. Did people really sleep on these? The idea seemed absurd.

She got changed into the dress and laid down. She could get used to this.


	10. Mari

It didn't take her very long to get bored.

After lying in the bed for a few minutes, Mari got up. She pushed back the curtains on the window, and watched the bustling street below her. This entertained her for a while, but then the ads on the screens started to repeat and the people and vehicles lost their original glamour. She stayed there for what felt like hours.

Her mind started to drift. She didn't have a set plan, but she knew that she needed to get in touch with Damien at some point. How she would do that, she had no idea. Steal a computer, perhaps? Preferably a wristwatch, though she doubted she'd be able to get her hands on one.

She'd have to do once she got hired, if you could even call it that. Damien had told her a bit about the process; your picture along with a brief bio describing your physical attributes was uploaded to a website. There, you would be matched to an assortment of rich people who preferred people with your features. Eventually, one would hire you, and you'd be off to the races. However, it was unknown how long this would take. Mari might have to start looking for other alternatives.

She thought about it for a while, before a bell rang. She assumed that it was summoning her for dinner, and shakily made her way out of her room.

Everyone else had done the same, swarming into the halls, creating a sea of bodies. Mari could barely stay on her feet as people pushed her this way and that, knocking her into other people and walls. They all seemed to be going in one direction, and Mari tried to follow them through the chaos. Eventually, they walked through a pair of wooden doors and into a cafeteria.

The cafeteria wasn't very impressive, compared to the rest of the building. The walls were a boring white, the floor wood. A buffet line was set up, with a few people with what looked like fishnets on their heads standing behind it, giant spoons in their hands. Security guards lined the walls, hands on their swords, watching for any sign of trouble. The sight was bizarre.

People started grabbing bowls and lining up, thankfully acting much more orderly than they had in the halls. Mari followed suit. She spotted Monica in the crowd, and make her way over to her. Monica looked relieved to see her, but neither of the women said anything to one another.

They approached the buffet line, bowls in hand. One of the women behind it shoveled some broth with chicken and vegetables floating in it into their bowls, before waving them off. They walked away from the line, scouting the area.

Scattered around the room were picnic tables. Mari and Monica picked one near the back and sat down. Wordlessly, they started to drink their soup. It was surprisingly tasty, the chicken well-cooked and the vegetables fresh. If it hadn't been so hot, Mari would've drank it quickly.

They were soon joined by Stephine and Quinta, who obviously didn't know where else to sit. Monica greeted them, and the four of them were soon in a deep conversation. Mari could tell they were intelligent, and they seemed fun. She was glad for it. She'd need all the friends she could get if she was going to survive this District.

Stephine was from the richer part of the Slums, her mother a previous servant and her father a pit fighter. It had always been her mother's dream to send her here. Quinta had been a bartender, and a betting counter. She'd only signed up because she was fired, and needed some cash, quickly. They both seemed to be telling the truth.

Soon, another bell rang. People started to get up, leaving their bowls on the tables. Mari copied them, as did her friends. She wondered what would happen to their bowls; if they were all the servants, who would clean up? Did this place hire servants? And if they did, were they the undesirable servants, the ones who had no chance of being hired? They must've been; otherwise, the Hecox family would be losing money.

The thought made Mari's skin crawl.

People started to walk out the doors, and the four of them followed suit. They started breaking off to go to their rooms, saying goodbye to one another. Once Mari was safely in her room, she let out a breath of relief.

She threw her dress off and plopped down on the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. After everything she'd just gone through, she was exhausted. 

She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains closed. The sun had set, and the streets were practically deserted. When she laid down on her bed, it took only minutes for her to drift to sleep.

• • •

She was awoken by another bell.

Breakfast was just as chaotic as dinner. She practically had to fight to get a bowl, which was soon filled with scrambled eggs. She sat at the same table as yesterday, and was soon joined by her three companions. Mari was starved, and ate the eggs quickly.

Once her friends had finished, a screen resting above the buffet line blinked on. A silence fell over the cafeteria.

Chantel walked into the room, her high heels clicking on the ground with every step. She was wearing a black dress that barely covered her knees, and a white fur coat that covered her shoulders. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

She stopped under the screen and turned, facing everyone. "Hello, servants! I hope you're all as excited as I am! We had a huge hirer yesterday, and I'm happy to tell you that a hundred of you got jobs! That's a lot of names, so, brace yourself!"

 _Uh,_ Mari thought.  _Your fakeness is killing me. Just get on with it._

The screen turned on, showing a silver-haired man's face. Chantel cleared her throat. "Steven Lim. Hired by Andrew Ilnyckyj."

There was a brief applause, before the screen changed again, this time showing a dark-skinned woman. "Freddie Ransome. Hired by Olivia Sui."

This kept going on, Chantel listing out name after name. Mari's hands started to get sore from all the clapping.

"Monica Vasandani," Chantel read out. "Hired by Olivia Sui."

We all clapped. Monica looked scared, and Mari didn't blame her. Who knew what this "Olivia Sui" had in store for her?

"Mari Takahashi," Chantel smiled. "Hired by Olivia Sui."  
  
Mari froze.

She hadn't expected to be hired so quickly. She supposed it was a good thing. And Olivia Sui... she swore she'd heard that name before. In any case, if Olivia was rich enough to hire two servants, she'd probably have a computer Mari could use to get in touch with Damien. That was a definite plus.

Once Chantel had finally finished, the screen shut off.

"Now, everyone who's been hired, please stay behind," Chantel smiled. "Everyone else, go to your rooms until you're summoned. Thank you!"

Mari and Monica stayed behind while Stephanie and Quinta left. By the time the commotion of everyone leaving calmed down, Mari was stricken by how empty the cafeteria was. There were only four people, tops, at every table.  
  
"Servants, congratulations on being hired!" Chantel said. "Now, you will be being shipped out tomorrow. Today will be your last day of training, so we'd better make it count! If everyone could just follow me."

She started to walk out of the room, and back down the hall. Mari hurried to keep up with her. Training? What the Hell did that mean?  
  
Chantel led them to the elevator, which someone fit all of them, and down to the 3rd floor. There, she took them to a room that had three doors.

"Here we go!" She turned to face them. "This is one of our best training rooms. To your right you can practice your physical abilities. Behind me, you can practice your cooking. And to my left, you can practice cleaning. You have until the end of the day. Make the most of your time!"

People instantly started running into rooms, practically trampling one another in their effort. Mari and Monica stayed frozen.

"I'm not very fit," Monica said at last, when it was just the two of them. "I guess I'll practice that."

Physical ability was the ast thing Mari needed to improve. "I'll do cooking."  
  
"Oh," Monica scratched the back of her neck. "Well, I'll see you soon, then."  
  
"Yeah," Mari told her retreating form. "See you soon."

She made her way to the cooking room, and opened the door.

Inside was a massive kitchen, with fridges lining the walls. People were already at workstations, cutting up vegetables and rolling dough. The lights were bright, the colors vibrant. It was intimidating to look at, but that was mainly because Mari had never been in a proper kitchen before.

She made her way to the back of the room, and found an available station. A few ingredients were lying there, along with a cookbook. Mari opened it, and started flipping through the pages. As someone who had never cooked before in her entire life, it was intimidating, to say the least. She half debated joining Monica.

Eventually, she convinced herself to stay. She needed to thrive here, and to do that, she'd need to be skilled. Cooking was required of her.

Mari settled on some cookies, and started to try and find the ingredients. Doing so gave her a basic sense of where everything was. Then she started to bake.

The instructions were fairly simple. She mixed the drys with the drys and the wets with the wets, mixed those together, added in some chocolate chips, and slapped it on a tray. Then she shoved it in the oven, which she'd preheated. It only took her an hour, tops.

While she was waiting, she moved on to a cake. That was, by far, harder. She was barely ten percent through when the cookies were done. By the time the cake was in the oven, the cookies were cold. But they were edible, at least; that was a plus.

She was halfway through making a salad when a bell rang, and the other people in the kitchen started making their way to the door. She followed them, and found Chantel waiting for them outside.

"Good job, servants!" She said cheerfully. "That concludes your last training session. I hope you used your time efficiently. Now, if you'd follow me, it's dinnertime!"

They did follow her. Mari found Monica, who looked too exhausted to speak. Chantel brought them to the cafeteria, where they were served the same soup as last night. Stephine and Quinta asked them about their day, and they them. Apparently, Jen had taught them how to make a bunch of different salads. Needless to say, they hadn't missed out on much.

Once dinner was done, they made their way to their rooms. Mari collapsed on her bed, letting exhaustion overtake her. If the rest of her time her would be like that day, she didn't know how she would survive.

She ran over everything she needed to do in her head:

1\. Contact Damien.

2\. Kill Govoner Sohinki

It was the second task that she was unsure of. Never before had anything been so... complicated. All her other jobs had been simple; find out where the person would be, shoot them. She'd never had to go to lengths like these to hit a target before, and, quite honestly, she didn't like it.

How would she get close to Govoner Sohinki without incriminating herself? They had her on file. She couldn't just jump out the window, break into his apartment, and slit his throat; they'd be able to find her. Somehow, she had to kill him without leaving any evidence.

It seemed impossible. How was she going to go from being Olivia Sui's servant to Govoner Sohinki's murderer?

 _You're Mari Takahashi,_  Boze's voice rang in her head. _You can do anything._

Mari hoped she was right.


	11. Mari

Mari was awoken by the bell.

She quickly hopped out of bed. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night; her nerves had kept her up. As she quickly ran to the cafeteria, she hoped her fatigue wouldn't get the best of her.

Breakfast went by in a blur. She quickly ate her eggs, and tried to talk to the other three women, but could barely focus on their words. She couldn't remember a time in her life when she had been this nervous before. She didn't know if it was because she was in unfamiliar territory, or what would happen to her if she were caught. All she knew was that she felt like she was sick, and it was annoying as Hell.

Eventually, Chantel told everyone to leave, except for everyone that had been hired. Mari and Monica said goodbye to Steph and Quinta, who, all circumstances considered, they would never see again, and waited. Monica was visibly shaking, which Mari found sort of reassuring; at least she wasn't the only one who felt nervous.

Chantel cleared her throat. "Well, workers, today's the big day! You all had the luck of being hired, and will be meeting your employers today. All of you have been bought by one of five people. When I say your employer's name, follow Jen out of the room."

Jen, who had been standing in a corner, nodded.

Mari remembered the name of the woman who had hired her; Olivia Sui. The name sounded familiar to her, though she didn't quite know why.

"We'll start off with most of you," Chantel explained. "Everyone who was hired by Govoner Sui, please follow Jen."

Monica and Mari exchanged an uneasy glance and stood up, along with most of the people in the room. Jen walked towards the door, and they all followed her out.

She led them through the semi-familiar hallways of the building. No one spoke, which gave Mari time to think. Olivia Sui was a Governor? All things considered, that was good news. Governors knew other Governors, surely. Mari breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps getting to Governer Sohinki wouldn't be as hard as she thought.

Jen led them out of the building and onto the street, where she pushed a few buttons on a control panel. Much to everyone's amazement, the pavement on the road opened, and a bus popped up. Mari had heard about this technology before, but seeing it in action was something else entirely.

"Everybody in!" Jen bellowed as the doors opened. Everybody scrambled to get in line, before orderly entering the bus. Mari ended up in a seat in the back, sitting next to some man she'd never seen before.

Before long, the bus was off, speeding through the city. Mari didn't have the window seat, so she just stared at the seat in front of her, left to her thoughts. The Governor would have a phone of some sort, so contacting Damien wouldn't be a problem. He could tell her what was going on with Governor Sohinki; if his hands had healed, what his daily routine was, and, most importantly, when he came in contact with Olivia Sui.

The bus ride wasn't very long, and they soon came to a stop. They got out of the bus, and were greeted with a miraculous sight.

They had arrived at a mansion, straight out of a storybook. It was massive, made of dazzling marble the shined in the daylight. The gardens were mesmerizing, the flowers colorful and the hedges neatly trimmed. It was truly a sight to behold.

Jen led them through the garden and to the front door, which she knocked on. The doors were wrenched apart, and Jen led them inside.

The room Mari found herself in was just as magnificent as the outside of the mansion. She wasn't alone when her jaw dropped. There were two grand staircases, made of wood, and detailed paintings covered the walls. A golden chandelier hung above them.

A short woman with black hair and almond black eyes was staring down at them from the balcony. Servants lined either side of her. She had a welcoming smile on her face.

"Welcome!" She greeted. "To my home!"

She walked down the left staircase, and all her servants followed her. "Thank you, Jen. The payment has already been transferred."

Jen nodded and left, leaving them alone with their employer.

Olivia Sui stopped in front of them. "Oh, you all look wonderful! I'm sure you will all do well on my staff. Unfourtnuetly, I can not talk to you long; being a Governor is no easy task. Work must be done! My workers will help you get settled, though. I will see you all shortly."

And with those words, she was gone, walking back up the staircase.

One of the servants stepped forwards. "I am the head of staff here. If you follow me, please, I'll give you a tour of the house."

Everyone knew that that wasn't really an offer, but a demand. When the man started walking up the stairs, they all followed him.

Each room in the mansion seemed too amazing to be real. From the kitchen to the bedrooms, the furniture and decorations made each room seem more impressive than the last. Mari couldn't imagine living here, it was so unlike any living quarters she'd ever known.

Eventually, the head servant led them back to the room they'd started in. 

"Now, normally you'd organize yourself by what you thought your best skill was, but that will come later," he explained. "Due to Mrs. Sui's upcoming party, you will simply be assigned jobs that will help in the preparation for it. You will all be given a number. That number will decide the chores you will do today."

A few servants rushed out and started numbering them. Mari was a five.

The head servant organized their groups, gave them a leader, and a chore to do. Mari and her group were on cleaning duty in the kitchen.

The head servant dismissed them, and everyone headed off to do their jobs. Mari jogged up to her group leader, a short woman with frizzy hair.

"Who's the party for?" She asked; it was a question that had been on her mind ever since the head servant brought it up.

"Governor Sohinki," the woman replied. "It's celebrating his quick recovery. It's a publicity stunt."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Mari could barely contain her excitement. Governor Sohinki would be here. That just made her job five times easier. 

The woman led them to one of the kitchens, which was a complete mess. The counters were filthy, supplies and tools were strewn everywhere, and the cabinets were thrown open. The woman turned to look at them.

"All the cleaning supplies should be found in the supply cupboards," She nodded her head at a cabinet that looked untouched. "All dirty dishes should be put in the dishwasher. If you have any questions, just ask. Now let's get to work."  
  
Everyone ran towards the cupboards, grabbing supplies. Mari got her hands on a cleaning spray and a dishrag, and quickly got to work on the counters, cleaning up all the food residue that was still on them. There weren't that many people in the group, seven to be exact, so everyone had their own portion of the kitchen to clean. Two people were working the dishwashers, which people kept bringing dirty tools too.

Mari had been cleaning for little under an hour when, while she was washing out her dirty dishrag in one of the sinks, something caught her eye. Under the sink was a small yellow box. 

Mari placed the dishrag down and pulled it out. On the cover was a poison symbol, with a rat's face instead of a skull. Underneath, it read "Rat Poison".

Mari's lips broke into a grin. Poison. With Governor Sohinki's upcoming visit, this could come in handy.

She quietly ripped it open and pocketed the bag inside. Trying to look as inconspicuous as she could, she got back to work. Her anxiety was gone.

Killing Governor Sohinki would be easy.


	12. Matthew

Work had been beyond stressful.

Noah Grossman, the fiance of the late Keith Leak Jr., was proving to be a real nuisance. He was claiming that the person who had killed the man he loved was the same person who had tried to kill Matthew, and had decided that that person was from the slums. Which, all things considered, probably wasn't a bad conclusion to come too. Noah was known for his intelligence.

However, Noah was using this information to rally people to his cause. Anyone else would've been fighting for tighter security, or demand justice. Noah, however, was using his social platform to campaign for better rights for people living in the slums, on the basis that if the living conditions were better there, whoever the assassin was wouldn't have to kill to make money.

He'd been campaigning this since Matthew's hospitalization. He hadn't gotten much traction at first; no rich people cared about the poor. Then he turned to the suburbs, who had flocked to him like sheep. Then rich people followed, wanting to get selfies with the young campaigner and bragging rights about being part of the "movement." After the riot that had occurred after he woke up, there had been several more. Yesterday, there had been one outside the Government buildings.

Matthew still remembered the sight of them. Thousands of teenagers and young adults, swarming down the streets, holding signs he couldn't even read from his office. They had tried to get in, and it had taken half the polis force to keep them at bay. And Matthew hated the polis. Every time he saw one, he thought of his father.

That made Matthew hate the whole goddamn movement.

So when Governor Sui (of course it was Olivia) brought it up at the panel meeting, arguing that they should listen to the protester's pleas, he agreed with Shayne and David for once in his life and was against it. He didn't care about the Slums, anyways. If the person who had tried to kill him lived there, and had friends and family there, then he'd rather watch it burn. Besides, why should they get any special attention? The Suburb District he grew up in was almost as bad as the Slums. He didn't see any protesters marching for the people living  _there._

Seeing as the vote must be unanimous for anything to pass, they were at a standstill. Everyone was passionate about their argument, and were at each other's throats. Matthew didn't know how they'd ever resolve this issue. But that worked in his favor, he supposed. If no new bill passed, then nothing would change.

That didn't make the last two hours of his life any less insufferable, however.

And the report he'd have to write for this shit; Gods, he didn't even want to think about it. Writing a report without a bias would not only be incredibly painful, but would insult half of the country. His words would be read across Kolea. The movement had made its roots in every city. No matter what he wrote, he'd piss someone off.

Why did he choose to be the scribe? He thought it would gain him the favor of the people, but all it had caused so far were inconveniences.

"Are you okay, sir?" Eugene asked from the driver's seat. Despite having them for a few weeks now, Matthew still knew next to nothing about his bodyguards. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Eugene and Ned always wore the same blank, expressionless face, and only answered questions with one word. Whoever had trained them had done an excellent job. Matthew supposed.

"Yes," Matthew wondered how angry he must've looked to make Eugene worried. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."  
  
Eugene answered with a curt nod, and then they were pulling up into his parking lot.

 _At least I don't have to work tomorrow,_ Matthew thought as his bodyguards followed him into the elevator.  _I need a break._

He opened the door to his apartment, ready to collapse onto his bed. Much to his dismay, however, his plans were immediately thwarted.

"Try this on," Courtney stormed towards him, throwing some clothing item into his arms. She was wearing a blue ballroom gown that trailed on the ground, with a long pearl necklace. Her face was covered in a layer of makeup. Her dress had sparkles, so many that she was almost too bright to look at. "I need to see how it looks on you."  
  
"What is this for, again?" Matthew asked. His mind was pulling up blanks. Usually, Courtney attended social events without him. In her words, he was a "blundering incompetent fool" when it came to parties. 

"Governor Sui's party," Courtney reminded him, a scowl spreading across her face. "To celebrate your recovery? I wouldn't bring you if I didn't have to, but I have no choice. Now try on the Gods damned suit."

Matthew knew better than to argue with her. He made his way to his room and quickly got changed, not wanting to test his wife's patience. The suit was navy blue, with a black tie. The fabric was comfortable, smooth, and soft. The only flaw was how bland it was, which Matthew had expected. The day Courtney let him outshine her was the day she died.

He walked back into the living room, where Courtney circled him, looking for a flaw. He stood there patiently. She'd done this many times before; Courtney had always been in charge of their social appearance. He had found out long ago that it was better if he just let her do what she wanted.

"Ariel!" Courtney shouted at their blonde maid, who Matthew hadn't even noticed standing in the corner. "Fetch me my mirror! The big one!"

Ariel quickly ran off, presumably to Courtney's room. Courtney stopped at Matthew's side and stood still as they waited.

"Do I look presentable?" He asked her.

"Barely," Courtney replied. If anyone else had said it, he probably would've laughed. But he knew she was dead serious. There was nothing humorous about that.

Ariel returned a few minutes later, pushing a tall mirror with wheels on the bottom. She was obviously struggling, and Matthew could see why; the mirror had a metal frame, and the floor was carpet. Courtney pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed with her efforts.

He would've stepped in to help, but before he could, Ned stepped forwards and took the other side. Together, they dragged it in front of the married couple. Ariel shot Ned a thankful look, and Matthew noticed a small smile form on his bodyguard's lips.

Courtney was busy looking in the mirror. Matthew knew what she was doing; making sure they matched. Once she was satisfied, she turned to him.

"You're free to go," She smiled. "Dinners in the fridge. Ceaser salad. Have a good sleep."  
  
"You too," Matthew replied, watching her recede down the hallway. Courtney was strange, in that way. It always confused him. The only times she was kind to him was after she'd gotten what she wanted from him. Most people kept a facade until they got what they wanted. Courtney was the opposite.

He ate his dinner and made his way to his room, dropping the suit and putting on his sleepwear. He thought of tomorrow and sighed. With his current relationship with Governor Sui, this party would be... interesting. 

With that in mind, he fell asleep.

• • •

He spent his morning writing his report, which was even more excruciating than he thought it would be. Each word he had to overanalyze, and he was far from satisfied with it. But after spending nine hours on a thousand-word report, he realized he'd have to finish it before he went insane. He sent it to the other Governor's to inspect, and then he was done.

He still had a couple of hours to spare, so he played a few games of chess with Ned and Eugene. He won all the rounds he played. Thankfully, just as he was starting to get bored, Courtney told him to get ready.

He got changed into the suit and let Ariel brush his hair. He waited at the door for what felt like hours until Courtney finally arrived, her hair done up in a way that defied gravity. She looked beautiful.

"We're going to be late!" She nagged him. "Hurry up! Get out the door!"  
  
Matthew felt tempted to tell her that he'd been ready to go a half hour ago, but decided to stay quiet. He followed her out of their apartment and down to their limo. He'd barely had enough time to get in before Eugene slammed on the gas.

They sped through the streets of the Downtown Area. At this hour, the roads and sidewalks looked deserted. After the shops closed, the area did too. Matthew saw a few protest signs glued to walls, and grimaced.

Governor Sui lived where most Governors do; in a mansion that could fit a hundred people with room to spare. He had to admit, it was a beautiful building, and the gardens looked incredible, but he couldn't help but feel like it was a waste. Besides for her occasional girlfriend, Olivia lived alone.  A building this large was not made for one person, and it made Matthew feel disgusted at the thought. 

As soon as he and Courtney exited the limo, he could instantly hear the party. The music was loud, and people were out in the gardens. It must be annoying the heck out of the neighbors; no one would be able to sleep through this.

It didn't take people very long to swarm him; he was, after all, the person the party was for. What felt like hundreds of people were talking to him, telling him how glad they were that he was okay and how it was only a matter of time until the polis caught his assailant. He didn't recognize any of them.

Courtney stayed at his side the entire time, her arms wrapped around his, trying to keep up their public facade as a happily married couple. Matthew could tell how much she hated that the attention wasn't on her.

Once they managed to escape and make it inside, the host of the party, Olivia herself, greeted them almost instantly. She was dressed in a rather revealing black dress and had her arm wrapped around some girl's waist.

"Matthew!" She smiled. "I'm so glad you made it!"  
  
"I found a way to work it into my schedule," He replied.

She laughed. Matthew could tell that she'd already had some drinks; not only was what he had just said not particularly funny, but she had been on the verge of slapping him yesterday. There was no way she would've forgiven him this quickly.

"Well, I hope you enjoy the party," She slurred. "Everyone who is anyone is here, and I hired a crap ton of new servants to make sure the house was in order and dinner was perfect. I've spent a lot of time on this event."  
  
"We are grateful for your time, Governor Sui," Courtney answered politely.

Olivia looked like she was about to answer, but the girl she was with whispered something in her ear, cutting her off.

"Well, I have to go," She giggled. "I'll see you both at dinner!"  
  
And with those words, she was gone, racing up the stairs, hand-in-hand with the other girl, leaving the two of them alone. He'd only been inside for a few minutes, yet the flashing lights and loud music was already starting to hurt his eyes and ears. If this was an indicator of how the rest of his night would go down, Matthew was far from excited.

"Champagne?"

A short servant had approached them, carrying a tray of glasses. She had long, brown hair, and looked strong. She was looking down, as all servants were instructed to do, so he didn't have a good look at her face.

"Thank you," Matthew replied, taking one of the glasses. She looked up at him for a second, giving him a semi-clear look at her face. She was quite pretty. But there was something in her eyes, almost like... recognition. Matthew was sure he'd never seen this woman before in his life.

She'd probably just seen a picture of him somewhere; he was a Governor, after all. But for some reason, he felt like that wasn't it. 

Courtney grabbed a glass and drank it in one gulp without even looking at the woman. "Let's dance, love."

Matthew let her drag him away, yet he couldn't take his eyes off the woman. To his surprise, she was staring right back at him. Her eyes seemed to dig right into him, and he was sure this woman could beat him up with one hand tied behind her back if she wanted too.

Something about her was just felt... off. And as Courtney led him to the dance floor, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was an omen, and something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong.


	13. Mari

Mari watched him go, breathing a sigh of relief.

She had to admit; she had been scared for a few seconds. He looked like he had recognized her, and if he had… she didn’t even want to think about it. Things could’ve gone south faster than she could blink.

Gosh, talking to him in the first place was stupid. She easily could've avoided him. But no, she just had to approach him. She'd get herself killed quickly if she continued acting like this. Especially if she wanted to pull off what she was planning.

But her brash courage had gotten the best of her. She had wanted to know what kind of person he was. And she had been surprised; he had said thank you to her, unlike his wife, who was quite clearly a bitch. He'd even smiled at her. 

She didn't know why she had just assumed that he was a horrible person; maybe it was because he was a Governor. But, from what she'd seen, he wasn't half bad. She wished the opposite was true. It was a lot easier to kill someone you hated.

It didn't help that he was attractive, either. He wasn't a man you'd point out in a crowd as being handsome, but he had subtle features. You could tell just by looking at him that he was intelligent, an attribute Mari found incredibly appealing. And the physical structure of his face and body wasn't too shabby, either. 

He was attractive in a completely different way than Anthony had been, and yet, he was just as appealing.

But he hadn’t recognized her, praise the Gods, and she was in the clear. She collected herself and made her way to the next rich person and offer them a drink. Somehow, she had been stuck on champagne duty, and she hated it. Most people either ignored her completely or just grabbed a glass. They treated her like she wasn’t even there, and it was infuriating.

Not to mention the outfit she was wearing. It was bright blue and far too short, leaving little to the imagination. Mari didn't like any dresses, but this one was exceptionally horrible. But it was nothing compared to her heels, which were three inches thick and incredibly uncomfortable. She's almost fallen over more times than she can count by now.

She'd put a lot of effort into preparing this event. Olivia had been dead-set on making sure the party was the best one of the year.  If Sara, the servant who had led her to the kitchen the day she had arrived here, hadn't told her that Olivia was only holding it to increase her social image, Mari would've thought that she actually cared about her fellow Governor.

There were almost as many people in attendance as there were on a slow night in the Spearmint Rhino. Especially in the dancing areas; Mari tried to stay clear off those. Not only were the disco lights and giant speakers that she had spent hours putting up incredibly annoying, but there were so many people there it was impossible to navigate through them.

She made her way outside and into the gardens, where all the people who were having polite, civilized conversations were. The only instructions the head servant had given her was to make her way around, offering everyone who wasn't talking to someone champagne, and to keep her head bowed. She pretty much had the freedom to go anywhere.

To keep herself preoccupied, she observed all the attendees. They were all wearing expensive outfits, and had clearly put a lot of effort into their appearance. For some women, she couldn't even make out their real physical features from the makeup.

It was ridiculous to her. Back in the Slums, the only people who gave a single shit about their appearance were their occasional visitors from the richer Districts. Spending so much money and time on your physical features just seemed like a waste of time to her.

She wished dinner would start already. Her arms and feet were sore, and she was constantly worried that the rope holding the packet of poison against her leg would come undone, exposing her to everyone. She felt like she had been out here for hours.

"Champagne!" She heard some man bellow.

She turned towards the speaker, and froze. She almost dropped the tray, and barely regained her composure in time.

Staring at her impatiently was a man she would never forget; Matt Raub. Images started to flash through her brain; Anthony holding a picture of him, his home, his screams, Anthony's body lying on the ground as she was forced to flee. She started hyperventilating, desperately trying to shake the thoughts from her head.

"What's the hold-up?" He hollered.

She mumbled a small "sorry" as she brought the tray over too him, feeling the dirty stares him and his friends were shooting her. She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Luckily, she was out of champagne. She quickly made her way to the kitchen, left it for a refill, and ran to the servant's bathroom.

She grabbed onto the sides of the cheap sink as the tears started to fall. Her breathing was shaky as she tried to calm herself down, to no avail.

Of  _course_ he was here. It was just her luck. She hadn't had a flashback in years, but one was hitting her now, twice as bad as they used to be. Her vision was black on the edges as the events of the night Anthony died ran through her head on fast-forward and repeat. She collapsed to the floor, curled up in a ball, and started to sob

"Mari. Mari. MARI!"

She was vaguely aware of someone pulling her up and slapping her. Once her vision cleared, she saw Monica, who had her hand raised to strike her again.

"What the in the name of our mothers was that?" She screamed, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. "Get ahold of yourself!"

Mari nodded, trying to stop herself from crying. "Thanks."

Monica slapped her again for good measure and grabbed some paper towels. "Get yourself cleaned up, and quickly. Your absence will be noticed soon."

And with those words, she was gone. Mari dabbed at her eyes with the paper towels, but couldn't get the redness to go away. She could only hope that no one would notice, and made her way out of the bathroom.

Her tray was waiting for her in the kitchen, but before she could grab it, the bell rang. Dinner was finally being served.

She quickly rushed to set the tables as servants started rushing into the kitchen, preparing the things they had been instructed to prepare. She was glad to be out of there, but the dining room wasn't much better. 

There were several tables set up, differing in size. She was happy she wasn't the person stuck on seat assignment, as they were set up in order of performance. All she had to do was set out the wine, which she had volunteered to do.

She made her way to the wine cart and observed the room. There weren't many people here yet, and none of them were watching her. Now might be her only chance.

She grabbed the poison, ripped it open, and poured it into one of the wine glasses. Thankfully, the color didn't change; if she didn't already know about it, she'd have no idea the poison was there.

She grabbed the tray of wine and made her way to the head table, making sure to remember which glass contained the poison. Thankfully, she knew where Matthew sat; he was at the head of the table, seeing as he was the person the party was being held for.

She made her way around the table, placing wine glasses on every table mat, placing his last. She let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. She could only hope this worked. The sooner she got out of this Gods-damned District, the better.

The other wine setters had already placed all the other wine, so she was more or less finished. She decided to help the cutlery setters, just to keep herself occupied. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and she kept glancing at the wine glass. So much was at stake.

After the food and plates were laid out, another bell rang, and people started coming in and taking their seats. Mari grabbed a wine pitcher from the kitchen and stood on the side of the room.

He arrived quickly, his wife in tow. Mari watched him sit down. She hoped he'd take a drink soon; she hated feeling nervous, and at the moment, it was all she was feeling.

She tried to stay occupied with other things, to make sure he wouldn't notice her watching him. She looked at the food, and the other people. But it didn't work. Her eyes kept returning to him and his glass as she waited for him to take a drink.

But he didn't. Minutes passed in what felt like hours, yet he hadn't even touched his glass. He'd eaten plenty and talked to the other people sitting around him, but all he'd done with his drink is give it a few glances. 

Something was wrong. Why wasn't he drinking from it? Did he somehow know, or did he just suspect that someone had done something to it? 

Then he did something, so subtly she barely noticed it.

Matt Raub had been sitting next to him, and was getting his glass refilled almost every minute. When he turned his head to talk to the pretty woman who was sitting next to him, Matthew switched their glasses.

Her heart stopped.

Shit. Shit. Shit! She could do nothing but watch as Matt reached for the glass. Time seemed to slow as he raised the glass to his lips. She had never felt so powerless before in his life.

Usually, it would take some time for the poison to work, but she'd put so much in it worked almost instantly. Matt shot up and started choking, clawing at his throat. The room went quiet as he dropped to his knees, clawing at his throat.

Olivia shot to her feet. "Someone help him! He's choking!"

An orange-haired man ran over to him and started performing the Heimlich maneuver, but Mari knew it wouldn't work. After a minute or so, Matt stopped moving.

There was complete, utter silence as everyone stared a the dead man. Then there was chaos. People started screaming, crying, and shouting. Some rose from their seats and crowded around Matt's corpse. And at the center of it all was Matthew, his hand wrapped around his wine glass, the beginning of a smile on his lips.

Mari felt like she was frozen. This was the second time he had thwarted her, and she knew she should be angry. But she wasn't. For some strange reason, she felt impressed. Intelligence was attractive to her, after all, and Matthew had just proven without a shadow of a doubt that he was intelligent. The only thought running through Mari's head as he raised his glass to his mouth was how fucking hot he looked.

Once everyone had calmed down, Matthew rose to his feet, and tapped his fork against his glass. Somehow, everyone went silent almost instantly.

"Governor Sui," Matthew turned to Olivia, who was checking Matt's pulse. "Have you hired any new servants in the past two months?"  
  
"I hired sixty-four for this event," She replied. "What has that got to do with anything?"

Matthew didn't respond, but he didn't need to. A man with glasses and colorful hair replied for him. "One of your servants is the assassin who killed my Keith and tried to kill Governor Sohinki."

There was a sickly silence as everyone took in his words. Mari tried to look as surprised as possible, in case anyone was looking at her. She was glad she did. When she looked back at Matthew, she noticed that he was looking right at her.

"Are you suggesting that the person who did this is in this house?" Someone shouted. Mari didn't look towards them. She hadn't broken eye contact with Matthew.

"Yes," Matthew replied, looking away from her. "They must've mistaken Matt's glass for mine. Someone just tried to poison me."

As people started freaking out, pouring out the contents of their wine glasses and the such, Mari couldn't take her eyes off Matthew, who was staring at the chaos, his wine glass in hand.


	14. Matthew

Matthew wished that he could say it was his superior intellect that led to his decision.

In reality, it had just been dumb luck.

Ever since he had seen that servant girl, he'd been on edge. He'd been looking behind his back almost every second, and not taking any food or drinks from servants. He'd given Courtney his champagne. So when he sat down, and saw that the wine had already been set out for him, he was instantly suspicious. 

He wished he had been sitting next to Shayne. Matt was an alright guy. Sure, they weren't the best of friends, but Matt upheld his party's themes of peace and unity. Out of the four other Governors, he had been Matthew's second favorite, right after Olivia. 

He'd only done it as a test. He knew that Matt's drink was being filled from the same pitcher each time, which wasn't poisoned, which meant it was fine. If he switched the glasses, either Matt would be fine or Matthew would knock off a political enemy. It was a win-win situation, so he'd switched the glasses. 

He had to admit; he did feel pretty proud of himself. He'd survived yet another attempt on his life, in front of everyone (even if they all thought it was a mistake made on the part of the assassin). Maybe it was a bit immature, and disrespectful, to take a drink from his wine while everyone freaked out, but hey; he was thirsty.

And she was looking at him. He'd noticed her while he was eating; the servant girl, holding a wine pitcher. He didn't know why he was so transfixed on her. Sure, she was around the same height as his assassin, but so were half the servants here. The possibility of the killer being her was so low it was practically impossible. 

Still, he had a weird feeling about her. And, for some unexplainable reason, he wanted to impress her. She looked shocked, but her eyes were gleaming. He could tell that she wanted to smile. She looked even prettier than she did before. 

Matthew knew he shouldn't be thinking like that, but he couldn't help himself. He kept eye-contact with her, right until she and the rest of the servants were instructed to leave. He watched her leave, noticing her back through the cut in her rather tight dress.

He finished his wine and set it down on the table. By now, most people had left, streaming out of the doors of the mansion. He could tell Courtney wanted to follow them, but he knew that the polis would want to talk about the incident, and no matter how insufferable that would be, he wanted to get it over with.

After a half hour or so, the polis had arrived. The only people that remained were himself, Courtney, his bodyguards, Olivia, and Noah. The young man was sitting at the farthest table, talking to Olivia. He looked calm, which infuriated Matthew. No doubt he would use this incident to support his own agenda. The thought made his blood churn. He hated how that boy was using his experiences to support an ideology he didn't agree with.

There were what felt like hundreds of polis in the room. Somewhere crowding around Matt's corpse, while others were leading people out to talk to them. A man with a short beard and a dark-skinned man approached Matthew. He recognized them as the men who had talked to him when he was in the hospital. They were okay, Matthew supposed. He could've been stuck talking to a man like his father.

That thought was made his skin crawl.

"Governor Sohinki," what was his name again? Officer Ricketts? Matthew couldn't quite remember. "We have some questions for you."

"Of course," He replied.

"If you could follow us to the station," the other officer asked, though they both knew it was a demand. "If you could come with us too, Mrs. Sohinki."

Matthew noticed Courtney grimace slightly at the title, but she nodded. He motioned at Eugene and Ned, and the four of them followed the polis officers out of the mansion.

They let them drive in their own limo, as long as they followed them. The second the doors closed, Courtney instantly looked at him.

"I saw you," She accused, pointing her finger at him. "I saw you switch the glasses."

"And?" Matthew asked.

"Did you poison him?" She shouted.

Matthew's eyes widened. "Of course not! If I was going to poison any other Governor on purpose, it would've been Governor Topp."

Courtney's eyebrows furrowed in anger. "You're a despicable person. If you knew the glass was poisoned, why didn't you just not drink from it?"

"I wanted to see if it truly was," Matthew replied. Her words hit him hard. When she framed it in that way, it truly did make him sound like a psychopath.

Courtney slapped him, hard. "I wish you had drunken from that glass, you bastard."  
  
Matthew didn't respond, and rubbed his face. Courtney may not be the strongest woman out there, but she could hit like a pit fighter when she was angry enough. He would've continued the conversation, but he was scared she'd hit him again, and decided to just stay quiet.

Eugene looked at them through the rearview mirror, his eyebrow raised. Matthew understood why; it was his job to protect him, and Courtney had just attacked him. He shot Eugene a smile, and the black-haired man looked away.

"We're here," He announced a few minutes later as they pulled up to the polis station.

"Courtney," Matthew turned to his wife, who didn't look at them. "You can't tell them I switched the glasses. You know that, right? If I go down, we both do."  
  
She didn't respond, and got out of the car. He could only hope she heeded his warning. If the public figured out what he had done... the consequences would be dire.

They walked into the polis station, where the two officers were waiting for them. The dark-skinned man turned to them.

"We'd like to talk to you two separately," He explained. "Governor, you'll be talking to Officer Bereta. Mrs. Sohinki, you'll be coming with me. Your bodyguards can wait here."

He shot Courtney a warning glance, and then she was gone. Matthew shot Eugene and Ned a nod, and followed Officer Bereta down a hallway.

He found himself in an interrogation room, complete with a one-way glass and uncomfortable chairs. He couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. It looked practically identical to the one his father had taken him too, every time he wanted to show him how bad things could get. Even though he'd never actually been inside the room, and had only looked through the glass, he could still picture the bloodied criminals who had sat in those chairs.

Officer Bereta waved at one of the chairs, and Matthew sat down. The polis officer sat across from him.

"Now, you're not in any trouble," Officer Bereta started. "But if you'd like to call a lawyer, it is your right to do so."

"I am my own lawyer," Matthew replied. It was true; he had studied law in college, even if had only been for two years before he'd gotten into politics.

"Very well," Officer Bereta nodded. "This won't take very long."

He took out a recorder and placed it between them, before placing his hands on the table. "Did you see what happened?"  
  
"Yes," Matthew replied.

"Can you please explain what happened?"

"He drank his glass of wine," Matthew started. "And then he jumped to his feet. At first, it seemed like he was choking, as he kept coughing and clawing at his throat. Governor Moss tried to save him, but it was no use. His eyes went bloodshot, and then he stopped moving."

"What do you think killed him?" Officer Bereta asked.

"Poison," Matthew replied, resting his hands on the table. he tried to keep his voice and facial expression emotionless.  
  
"Why do you think that?" Officer Bereta furrowed his eyebrows.  
  
"I saw him drink the wine; you can't choke on wine. And I know Governor Moss went to medical school. If he were choking, he would've been able to save him," Joven had uncovered a lot more when he was researching David than just the fact that he was cheating on his wife. Matthew hoped Officer Bereta didn't find it odd that he knew David's school records.

"And do you know why anyone would want to poison Governor Raub?" Officer Bereta asked. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

"They weren't trying to poison him. I believe the assassin made a mistake, and wanted to poison me." It wasn't a complete lie. They had been trying to poison him. But they hadn't made a mistake.

"You?" Officer Bereta asked, sounding shocked. 

"Yes. I'm sure you've heard about the attempt that was made on my life a few weeks ago. I believe the same person poisoned Matt." That wasn't a complete lie, either.  
  
"You think they got back into the District?" Officer Bereta raised his eyebrow. Matthew almost scoffed. Those who believed the vetting process potential servants went through kept out all criminals were fools.

"Yes. Governor Sui said she hired many servants since the attempt made on my life. I believe one of them is the assassin," Those were the truest words Matthew had said during the entire interview.

Officer Bereta nodded and turned off the audio recorder. "Thank you, Governor. You have been a great help."  
  
Matthew nodded and followed him out of the room. Courtney wasn't done yet, so he took a seat in the waiting room. Eugene and Ned were waiting for him, leaning against the walls.

He took the time to think. He knew the assassin was back in the District. They might've run after the poison attempt failed, but he doubted it. They were probably at Olivia's mansion, already thinking of an alibi and a way to kill him.

But that wasn't even his worst worry. He had just lied to the polis. If Courtney told the truth, his career would fall apart. He might even be charged with murder.

Courtney returned ten minutes later, her face emotionless. She exited the building without even looking at him. Matthew stood up and followed her, his heart beating quickly. The fact that no polis officers had followed them was a good sign, though didn't mean she hadn't told them.

They climbed into the limo, and Eugene started driving.

"I didn't tell him," She didn't look away from the window. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good," Matthew looked straight ahead. Courtney had heard him talk to everyone. Hopefully, she mirrored his version of events to a T.

The streets were no longer deserted. People had come out of their homes, no doubt hearing about the incident on the news. They pointed an shouted as they passed, recognizing their car. Eugene turned on the radio to drown them out, but the annoying pop music that came on might have been even worse.

Reporters were surrounding his apartment complex, holding microphones and cameras, begging him for interviews. A few of them even started hitting the car, and Eugene almost hit a few of them as he made his way into the parking garage.

The four of the rode the up the elevator in silence. Ariel and the other servants had been watching the news, but quickly turned the T.V off when they walked inside. Courtney made a beeline to her room, while Matthew got a glass of water. He said goodnight to the servants, who looked scared even though they didn't do anything wrong, and made his way to his bedroom.

Later, as he lay in bed, trying to no avail to get some sleep, he thought about the night. He was tired of being the target, of having to look over his back. He was determined now. The assassin would not win. He was going to survive. Soon, they would be the one looking over their back.

"Look out, assassin," he whispered to himself. "I'm coming for you.


	15. Mari

There was chaos in the servant's dining room.

The head servant had instructed them to go there, and they'd had no choice but to listen. Now they were all there, all two hundred of them, and they were all terrified. People were screaming, crying, talking to one another in hushed voices about who had gotten them in this situation. It was cramped, and hot.

Mari was standing in a corner. She'd managed to get rid of the rope, but she was still scared. She ran her fingers through her hair nervously. Everyone knew she'd been on wine placement, and there weren't that many people who had performed that job. She'd be a prime suspect.

She noticed Monica in the crowd, who was approaching her. "Hey, you okay?"  
  
Mari knew she was referring to the bathroom incident. She still felt embarrassed about it. She'd hadn't had an episode in months, so when this one hit her, she'd completely lost control. She should've had better control of herself.

"Yeah," Mari nodded. "Sorry about that. I should've-"

Monica pulled her into a hug. Mari hugged her back, a few tears slipping out of her eyes. Monica undoubtedly knew what had happened to her; almost everyone had some traumatic experience in the Slums. Flashbacks were more than common.

"Don't apologize," Monica said when they pulled apart. "Happens to the best of us."

Mari nodded. "Thanks."

Monica shot her a smile and took her hand in her won, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She cupped Mari's face with her other hand. Suddenly, Mari was hit with a wave of relief at the fact she'd talked to Monica in that bar what felt like years ago.

The head servant had walked through the doors with a megaphone. Keeping their hands together, Mari and Monica turned to face him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," He began. "As you all know, a man's life was taken today. And it was one of you who took it. I guarantee you, that person will be brought to justice. The polis are here. If everyone who was on wine placement duty - and we know who you are - please come up."

Monica gave Mari's hand one last squeeze, before letting her go. Mari navigated her way through the crowd, and made her way to the head servant. The five other wine placers were already there.

"Follow us," a polis officer instructed. No one argued, and they all followed him up the stairs and onto the main floor.

He led them to what Mari recognized as Olivia's study. The Governor was nowhere to be found.

"We will take you in one at a time," He told them. "Wait here. Any acts of resistance will be met with punishment. Now, form a line."

They did. Mari found herself in the middle. The first person in line, a short boy with glasses, entered the room.

Waiting was horrible. It took at least ten minutes per person, and there were three in front of her. By the time it was her turn, not only was she incredibly nervous, but she was also bored out of her mind.

When the person who had been in front of her exited the room, she took a deep breath, and walked inside.

Olivia's study was a pretty room. The walls held gigantic bookcases and filing cabinets. Her desk was large and silver, and had an impressive looking laptop placed on it. On either side of the desk were two plush chairs. 

A man was already sitting in one of them. She sat down across from him,  folding her hands in her lap, trying to calm herself down. She heard the door close behind her, and then the man looked up.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Mars?" He asked. Mari's face broke into a smile.

"Flitz?" She asked in amazement, not believing her luck. Yet here he was. Her friend, the one who had helped her on numerous missions, was sitting across from her.

"Long time no see," He smiled.

She sprung up and rushed around the desk to hug him, an act he happily let her perform. "Gosh, I can't believe it's you!"

Flitz laughed. "I had a feeling this was your doing. When they asked who wanted to question the servants, I volunteered. Seems like I was right."  
  
Mari let go of him. "Thank you so much, Flitz. Gosh, I almost had a heart attack, I was so nervous I was going to get caught."

"What happened, Mars?" He asked when she sat back down. "Why'd you end up poisoning the wrong guy?"  
  
Flitz knew her target was Matthew; he'd helped her get through the border wall during her first attempt on his life.

"He switched the glasses," Mari explained. 

"He did?" He asked. "Well, that's certainly not what he told my partner."  
  
"You questioned him?" She asked.

Flitz shook his head. "I questioned his wife. My partner questioned him."  
  
"Did he say anything about me?" Mari asked worriedly.

"Did he have a reason too?" Flitz asked.

"No," Mari shrugged. He didn't, really. But still, that way he had looked at her... it was cause enough to worry.

"Good," Flitz nodded. "Anyways, you're off the hook. The girl who had come in before you was the one who had been refilling Raub's glass. I'll just blame it on her."

"Thanks, Flitz," Mari smiled. "You're a lifesaver."  
  
"I know," He joked. "But Mari?"  
  
"Yeah?" 

"Don't fuck up next time," He warned. "Next time you make an attempt on his life... make sure it's successful."  
  
"I will," She promised.

"Good," He smiled. "You're free to go."  
  
She nodded. "See you soon."  
  
"Let's hope not," He replied, making her laugh. And with those words, she left the room.

The other three people who Flitz had already questioned were leaning against the wall, waiting. Mari joined them. Now that she was sure Flitz was going to save her ass, she wasn't nervous anymore. That didn't make her any less bored, though.

Gosh, was she lucky. Flitz had only become a polis officer by chance. His father had been a massive gambler, which had been a real problem; until he won big, and earned enough money to move them up into the Suburbs. Mari didn't see him for years, until Damien got her in contact with him. He'd gone to law school, and used his natural athletism to become an officer.

She tried to keep herself entertained by spotting things in the room. Olivia was nothing if not an amazing home decorator. The walls were coated with tapestries and paintings, which were incredibly detailed. She stared at them, noticing all the little details and mistakes.

When Flitz finally emerged from the room, she couldn't be more relieved. He whispered something to the other polis officer, and together they walked towards them. They seemed to be walking right towards Mari, and even though she knew she'd be fine, she couldn't stop her heart from racing.

Then they grabbed the girl who was standing next to her, slapping handcuffs on her wrists. She started screaming about her innocence, but they didn't listen.

"You're all free to go," Flitz told them. Mari could see the relief on everyone else's faces, and mirrored it on her own.

They made their way to the servants quarters, where they were instantly bombarded with questions. Mari ignored them and made her way to her room. Dinner had been served, but she was tired, and had lost her appetite a long time ago.

She collapsed in her bed. Her room was small, but she didn't particularly care.

While she wasn't happy that it wasn't Matthew who had died, she was glad it had been Matt Raub who had died instead. It was his fault Anthony was dead. He could burn in Hell for all she cared. In fact, she wished she did.

With that thought on her mind, she let her tiredness overtake her, and she fell asleep.

• • •

Breakfast was plain, like it always was. She barely said a word to Monica, who returned the favor.

After breakfast, every servant was gathered in the front room of the mansion, where Olivia was waiting. She had bags under her eyes, and looked like she hadn't slept a wink that night.

"Servants," She started. "I am sorry to say that one of you betrayed me, and our country. And while that person has been caught, it pained me greatly that she betrayed me. However, I am sure you are all wondering what will happen to you. The answer is nothing. Work shall go on like normal. Thank you for your time."

With those words, she was gone.

The head servant started assigning everyone roles, which we headed off to do. Mari was on kitchen duty, which she hated, with Monica.

Kitchen duty was the worst. You had to cook for hours, and you never got to eat anything. Usually, you worked far longer than everyone else. It was torture.

It took hours for them to finish dinner and serve it to Olivia and her guest, Noah Grossman. Of course, that wasn't the end of it. 

"We're out of eggs and beef," Sara announced to everyone, who were already exhausted. "We need to do an errand run. Any volunteers?"

No one volunteered. After all, who wanted to do extra work?

"Then I'll choose," Sara said. "Mari, you do it."  
  
Mari groaned and took the list and some money from Sara, who gave her a smile, before making her way out of the mansion. While the supermarket wasn't very far away, Mari still hated doing errand runs. Why was it her job to restock the fridge and pantry? She was already exhausted.

The walk felt like it took hours. Luckily, it didn't take her very long to find the items on the list. She paid for them and exited the building, thankful to get out of there. The building was far too big and bright for her liking. Back home, supermarkets were small, and you never went there looking for something; you just bought whatever they had.

She started to walk back, before she heard something.

She stopped in her tracks. It was late, and the streets were practically silent. All she could hear was the wind, and she almost started walking when she heard it again, clear as day.

A scream.

Mari slung her bag over her shoulder and ran towards the sound. Back home, she normally ignored screams; they happened so often there was no way she could help whoever made the noise. But not here. This was the Aristocrat District. People were rarely attacked here, and if they were, she was going to do something about it.

She found herself in an alleyway, and had a clear view of what was going on. A blonde woman was surrounded by three guys. One had his hand over her mouth, another had a gun pointed at her head, and the last was rummaging through her purse.

Mari didn't know if this was simply a robbery or something much worse, but she didn't care. Someone was in danger.

She dropped her bag. "Hey, leave her alone!"

That certainly got the goon's attention. They turned towards her. Mari used the element of surprise to her advantage.

She launched herself into the air and kicked the one with the gun in the face, knocking him into the wall. His gun went flying, but she had no time to grab it before the other two turned to her.

One came at her, and she elbowed him the face, wrapped her arm around his neck, and threw him over her shoulder, slamming him onto the ground. She kicked the last one in the shins and shot to her feet, punching him in the face. He went down.

The one she'd thrown down was the only one left conscious, and he looked angry. He lunged at her. She easily dodged, and jabbed him in the side before kicking him in the head. He hit the ground with a loud crack.

There was a brief silence as Mari regained her breath, before she knelt next to the blonde woman, who had grabbed her purse from the ground and was clutching it, her eyes wide. "Hey, you okay?"

The women turned to look at her, too shocked to respond. She looked familiar, but it took a few seconds before Mari realized who it was. She looked different without the layer of makeup on, but her identity was unmistakable.

Mari had just saved Matthew's wife's life.

 


	16. Matthew

The panel had seemed empty without Matt.

The next election was approaching soon, so they didn't have to have to hold a new one to replace him. The person his party had sent to replace him was an amateur who obviously had no idea what he was doing, and stayed quiet for most of the discussion. Matthew could already tell that he didn't like him.

Olivia had looked like a wreck, with large bags under her eyes, and had barely spoken either. In fact, everyone had been unusually quiet.  Perhaps it was out of respect for their fallen Governor. In any case, the meeting had been over quickly.

Matthew felt guilty. Courtney was right; he should've just left the wine alone. He could already tell that the servant the polis had apprehended wasn't the assassin; she was too tall. Matt had died for nothing, and an innocent girl was going to be executed. He wished he could go back in time and undo what he had done, but it was too late. He was a murderer.

He angrily slammed his key into his apartment door. He was back home far earlier than he usually was; Courtney wouldn't be expecting him back at this time. She was always saying that he should come home sooner; it seemed she was now getting her wish.

He opened the door, let in his bodyguards, and closed it. He turned, and couldn't believe his eyes.

Courtney was sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over her torso. Ariel was giving her a shoulder massage, and she was drinking something out of a cup. That sight was worrying enough; she looked like something bad had happened to her. But that wasn't what shocked him.

Sitting across from Courtney was the last person he had expected to see. She had her brown hair draped over her shoulder, and was staring at him with her startling almond eyes. It was the servant woman, the one from Olivia's party.

"What- who?" He stumbled over his words in his shock. "Courtney, what is this?"

Courtney lowered her cup from her lips. "Matthew, this is Mari. Mari, this is Matthew."

"Hey," The servant woman, who was apparently called Mari, said, raising her hand in a wave.

"Why is she here?" Matthew asked. He did not feel comfortable with Courtney bringing complete strangers into his home. For all he knew, she was the assassin!

"Because I owe her," Courtney replied softly. "She saved my life."  
  
"She what?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"She saved my life," Courtney repeated. "I went to... to Sarah Whittle's house for tea, and when I was walking home, I was attacked by three men. They grabbed me and took my purse, but I know that wasn't all they wanted. And then she showed up out of nowhere and beat them up."

"You beat up three men single-handed?" He asked Mari. He wouldn't put it past her. She looked strong, and had a fire burning in her eyes.

She nodded. She draped one of her arms over the back of the couch. She tried to make it look natural, but Matthew knew she was just doing it to show off her muscles, which she had plenty of "Wasn't even that hard."

"Well, thank you, Mari," He stated. He had to admit; he was impressed. Taking down three opponents isn't an easy task. "You've done us a great service."

"You're welcome," She replied, a smug smile on her lips. "I always help those in need."

There was a short silence. Matthew could understand why Courtney had invited her to their home, but he still had an uneasy feeling about her. Knowing she could beat up three men easily didn't help.

"I want her to be my bodyguard," Courtney blurted.

"What?" Matthew asked. Her bodyguard? Since when has Courtney wanted one of those?

"I felt so powerless," She explained. "I don't want to feel like that ever again, Matt."

There was another period of silence as Matthew and Courtney stared into each other's eyes.

"Court, could I talk to you alone?" He asked.

She nodded and stood up. He motioned to his room, and the two stepped inside.

"What are you talking about?" He asked her as soon as the door closed. "You don't know anything about her! She could be the assassin!"

"I know she's strong, and caring," Courtney replied. "She helped me even though she had no expectation of a reward. And they caught the assassin."

"No, they didn't," Matthew replied. "That woman's too tall."

"The chances of it being Mari are slim, Matt," Courtney replied, not bothering to even counter his argument, instead opting to just skip over it. "If I ever want a female bodyguard, it had to be her. They don't train women. And many of my friends wouldn't be comfortable if it was just the two of us and a huge, muscly guy."  
  
"Courtney-"

"Please," She begged. "I've been talking to her for an hour. She has an amazing personality. I don't want to ever be in a situation like that again, Matthew. Please."

Matthew sighed. He didn't want her in his home. But he knew that once Courtney wanted something, she would stop at nothing to get it. He might as well give up now. 

Besides, he didn't want any similar situations to occur. He hated the idea that anyone would hurt Courtney. He didn't love her, sure, but he still cared about her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be harmed.

"Fine," He relented, crossing his arms. "I'll call Olivia."  
  
"Thank you," Courtney kissed his cheek, a tear slipping out of her eye. "You're a lifesaver, Matthew."

He watched her exit the room before grabbing the phone angrily, almost knocking it off the table. He already had Olivia's number from work. Might as well get this over with.

He pressed her contact and pressed the phone to his ear. He didn't have to wait long before someone answered. Knowing how many servants she had, that wasn't surprising.

"You've reached Olivia Sui's home. Who is this?" The voice was male, and most definitely not Olivia.

"Matthew Sohinki," He replied.

"Oh, I was meaning to call you. A servant is missing. We're worried she might be coming after you. Mrs. Sui told me to warn you," The other man said hurriedly.

"Yeah, I know. She's here," Matthew replied, knowing the other man was talking out of his ass. If he was planning on calling him, he would've done it by now. He was probably just trying to improve Olivia's standing. "Listen, can I talk to Governor Sui?"

"Mari Takahashi is at your home?" The man sounded shocked. "Has she tried to hurt you?"  
  
"No. She saved my wife's life. I was wondering if I could buy her," Matthew sighed. He wanted this man to leave. "Can I talk to Governor Sui?"

"Of course," The man still sounded shocked. "I'll go get her."

There were a few minutes of silence. Matthew leaned against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. Gods, did he hate talking on the phone. He always avoided it when he could. 

Eventually, he heard Olivia's voice, which sounded shacky. He hated hearing her like this. Olivia was one of the strongest women he knew. "Governor Sohinki?"

"Yeah, it's me," Matthew replied, wanting to get this over with quickly. "I was wondering if I could buy a servant from you?"

"Which one?" She asked, yawning.

"Mari Takahashi," Matthew could only hope he remembered the correct last name. The other man had only said it once.

"Gosh, I don't even remember what she looks like," Olivia replied. "Sure. 100 aurums."

"Deal," Matthew replied. 100 aurums wasn't too much for a servant. "I'll make the transaction today."

"Okay," She replied, sounding relieved. He was sure she wanted this conversation to be over just as quickly as he did. She probably had a mountain of work to get back too. "See you at work tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you," He replied as she hung up. He pulled up his bank app and started the transaction. His bank let him transfer money straight through his phone, which was a relief, and he already had a permission to send money to Olivia's account from when he lost a bet to her. Once he was done, he made his way back to the living room. Mari hadn't even moved, and just looked at him with those black eyes that seemed to stare right through him.

"Well, Mari, welcome to our home," He said reluctantly. "You'll be working for us from now on."  
  
"Sweet," She said, earning herself confused looks from everyone but Ariel. "I mean, okay."

She'd have to learn not to use Slums slang. All that would gain her would be confused glances from everyone but other servants. Plus, it was rude. Ariel would have a lot to teach her.

Matthew walked over to the fridge and pulled out the dinner Courtney made for him, which was chicken. He threw it in the microwave. Mari and Courtney had returned to their conversation, which Ariel was tuning into every once in awhile.

He ate his dinner quickly. It was a little dry, but he didn't complain. Courtney had been through enough tonight, and she'd probably slap him if he said a word about it. "Goodnight, Courtney."

"Goodnight, Matthew," She replied, giving him a smile. He wondered if she'd be able to sleep tonight. He hoped she could. She deserved it. "See you tomorrow."

Matthew nodded and made his way into his room. He got changed into his night clothes and climbed into bed, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that was lurking inside him. Somehow, he managed to drift off to sleep.

• • •

He found himself on his roof.

The hard concrete was cold against his bare fingertips. He stood up, and was instantly greeted by the freezing night wind.

All he was wearing were his night clothes, which offered him no protection or heat. The ground dug into the soles of his uncovered feet. Why was he up here? He hadn't even touched the door to the roof since the incident.

He tried to open the door into his apartment, but it was jammed shut.

"Shit," He growled as he pulled on the handle, to no avail. He was locked out.

He heard a laugh from behind him. He turned, and found himself face-to-face with the assassin.

They were wearing the same outfit they had worn that night; a long hooded cloak and night vision goggles. Their chest shook with laughter.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked angrily.

They didn't answer, but their laughs got louder. He let go of the door and turned to face them.

"Why?" He shouted, feeling humiliated. He must've looked silly, wearing nothing but pajamas as he tried to open a locked door.

"Because you just let me into your house," They responded, pressing a button on the side of their goggles and throwing off their hood. Matthew watched in horror as their face was revealed to him.

"You fool," Mari grinned, pressing a knife against his throat. The cold steel bit into his skin. There would be no knife-grabbing this time. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. If he had to go out, he'd do so on his own terms.

Instead, he felt her lips against his. His eyes opened in surprise as she pushed him against the door, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed with fierce passion, and her lips were soft. For some strange reason, he found himself kissing her back, grabbing her waist and pulling her against him. It was like his body was acting on its own, and no matter how much he tried to pull away, his body wouldn't let him.

Then, almost as quickly as she started, she pulled away. Before he could even react, she brought her knife across his throat in one quick, sudden movement.

He dropped to his knees, bringing his hands to neck, trying to stop the bleeding as he choked on his own blood. He felt the liquid slip through his finger and run down his hands and arms. He looked back up at Mari, and saw that she was laughing again.

He woke up screaming.


	17. Mari

"I should probably be getting some sleep," Courtney said absentmindedly as Matthew closed the door to his room. "Ariel, can you show Mari to her room?"

"Of course, miss," Ariel replied, taking her hands off Courtney's shoulders. "Have a good sleep."

"You too," Courtney smiled. "And you, Mari."

Mari nodded, and with those words, Courtney walked down the hallway to what Mari assumed was her bedroom.

Ariel turned to her. "Follow me."

Compared to Olivia's mansion, Governor's Sohinki's apartment was a joke. As Mari followed Ariel down a flight of stairs, she couldn't help but notice how plain everything seemed. She couldn't imagine how anyone who had access to as much wealth as Matthew could possess such a bland home.

Back in the Slums, there was nothing you could buy to improve your home decor. Mattresses were a rare item, let alone paintings. Getting your hands on so much as a cupboard was considered lucky.

Ariel led her into a small room, with many doors plastering the walls. She opened one of them and gestured inside.

"This is yours," she said. "Breakfast is served at seven."

Mari nodded, and Ariel left. She walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

It was twice as big as the one back at Olivia's had been. There was a bed, a carpet, and a desk. She had enough room to lie on the ground between the bed and the wall. It was definitely an upgrade.

Mari sat down on the bed, feeling the soft material underneath her fingertips. Moonlight streamed on her face through the window. It was completely silent.

She couldn't keep it in anymore.

A laugh escaped her lips. Then another. Before she knew it, Mari's entire body was shaking with laughter. She laid back on the bed, laughing until her throat was sore.

How lucky was she? How godsdamn lucky? What were the chances that she'd even run into Courtney, let alone save her life? It seemed impossible, yet here she was. In the very house of the man she was trying to kill.

What were the motherfucking odds?

All she'd had to do now was figure out some way to kill him without putting any blame on herself. She could take the lug nuts out of the wheels of his car. Or make a makeshift bomb and blow it up, with him inside. Or slit his wrists, and frame it as a suicide. Gosh, the possibilities were endless.

And all she'd have to do was protect Courtney. That would be as easy as taking candy from a baby. Mari had a feeling that the men who had attacked her hadn't done so just because she was Matthew's wife; they probably just grabbed her because she looked rich and was pretty. All she'd have to do is follow the blonde around, and act intimidating. Maybe she could even get some shades.

Besides, she didn't mind Courtney. The short conversation they'd had before Matthew had come home had been boring, sure, but it hadn't been painfully so. Mari felt like she could talk to Courtney for hours if it were required of her. If following Courtney around and talking to her every once in awhile was the price she had to pay to get her hands on five hundred thousand aurums, then this would be easy.

Giddy with excitement, Mari closed her eyes. Her dreams were pleasant that night.

• • •

She awoke to Ariel shaking her. "Breakfast has been served."

Mari nodded and got out of bed with a yawn, stretching. Ariel gave her a smile and left the room. Mari followed her.

Courtney was already awake, eating what looked like eggs. A few other servants were eating with her, which surprised Mari. She assumed that all rich people ate without their servants.

"Ah, Mari!" Courtney greeted her. "How was your sleep?"

"Good," Mari replied, standing awkwardly in the living room. Ariel had walked over to one of the kitchen counters and was grabbing a plate.

"Are you going to eat?" Courtney asked her.

Mari blinked. "Uh, yeah."

Ariel gestured to another plate of eggs, understanding why Mari was hesitant. Mari shot her a grateful smile and grabbed it, before sitting at the table.

Mari ate in silence. Gosh, this felt awkward. She felt like she shouldn't be here; it radiated off everyone in the room. This was not her element, and it was obvious to her. The game rich people played, of knowing what to say and when to say it, was one Mari barely knew the rules of, let alone know how to play.

"So, we should probably introduce you to everyone," Courtney smiled. "This is Ariel, obviously. Those are Governor Sohinki's bodyguards, Eugene and Ned. And that's Kelsey."

She pointed to each person as she spoke. Kelsey waved when she did, while the two bodyguards stayed silent. Mari could tell they came out of the academy. She'd known many retired bodyguards, all of which had the same hard, emotionless exterior. She didn't know what they did to students at that place to make them that way, and she didn't know if she wanted too.

"Speaking of Matthew, he's late," Ariel pointed out. "He's usually up so early we miss him."

Just as she said those words, the door to Matthew's room opened, and the Governor came out.

"Speak of the devil," Courtney muttered, looking up from her breakfast.

Matthew looked like Hells. There were dark bags under his eyes, making him look like he hadn't slept for days. His hair looked like a rat's nest. But most of all, he looked... scared.

"Matthew, what happened?" Courtney asked worriedly.

"Just didn't get much sleep," He replied, yawning. "You know I get nightmares sometimes."

"Well, clean up," She scolded. "If you go out looking like that people will accuse you of looking like a monster."

Mari was surprised to see Matthew not even react to her words. He must've built up an immunity, she supposed. She hadn't been here very long, but she could already tell that Courtney hated her husband.

"I know," he replied. "Where do we keep the concealer again?"

"I'll get it," Kelsey shot to her feet and sped down a hallway. Mari watched her go, before turning back to Matthew, to see that he was staring right at her. She looked down at her eggs quickly.

"Your eggs are on the counter," Courtney said. Matthew picked it up and went back into his room.

"He's not going to eat with us?" Mari asked.

"He never does," Ariel replied. "It's best if it stays that way."

Mari didn't press the topic.

Kelsey returned and went to his room, presumably to give him the concealer. By that time, Mari had finished her eggs. Courtney had as well.

"Well, we don't have much planned for today," Courtney announced. "I'll just be going to Sarah's house, mainly to help look after her son. He's such a darling little boy; you'll love him, Mari."

Mari doubted that. Kids annoyed the heck out of her. She could take care of one for an hour, tops, before she'd go mental. It was one of the many traits she shared with Boze.

"I'm sure I will," Mari lied through her teeth.

Courtney smiled. "Good. Kelsey, Ariel, you pretty much have the day off. You just need to get Mari some clothes; I'm sure you know what to get."

"Yes, Ms. Miller," they replied in unison.

"Mari, if you would just let Ariel get your clothing sizes," Courtney asked. "Then we can go."

"Sure," Mari replied, standing up. Ariel did the same, and started walking down the hall. Mari followed her.

She led her into a closet. "Turn around."

Mari did as she asked. Ariel pulled back the collar of her shirt and read the tag. She did the same with Mari's pants, before writing it down in a notebook she kept in her pocket.

"I assume you don't know your bra size?" Ariel asked.

Mari shook her head. No one really had a bra in the Slums. The few you could get your hands on never fit. You just wrapped gauze around your chest, which was what she had on right now.

"I'll just guess," Ariel put her notebook away.

"Is that it?" Mari asked.

Ariel nodded. "Oh, and just one more thing."

She dropped her voice and stepped closer to Mari, making sure she was the only one who could hear her. "Both spouses have their secrets. It'd be wise if you kept them that way."

"What?" Mari asked.

"Their marriage is not one built on trust," Ariel replied. "You'll see soon enough. Just make sure not to get involved. Courtney has secrets, Matthew has secrets. Make sure you don't tell either one each other's."

Mari didn't know how to respond. "Uh, okay. Thanks."

Ariel stepped back and nodded. "Then we're done. Courtney is probably waiting for you."

She was right. Courtney was already wearing her jacket and had her shoes on, with her purse slung over her shoulder. She was leaning against the wall, playing with her phone.

Mari grabbed her shoes and slipped them on. When she saw her, Courtney put her phone back in her pocket and opened the door. Together, the two women walked out.

It was a rather short walk to Sarah's home. The streets in the Elite District were well organized, and it was easy to get to your location. It seemed every building had screens attached to them, which were all showing different ads. They kept grabbing her attention, though they all displayed things she didn't want or need.

Courtney walked into another apartment complex, and Mari followed her. She pressed a button outside, and after a few seconds, the door opened. They walked inside and to an elevator, which took them to the sixth floor.

Sarah lived in room number 612. Courtney had a key. It wasn't a tiny apartment, but it was small compared to Matthew's. Seconds after they walked inside, a young boy ran up to them and started tugging on Courtney's jeans.

 _Great,_  Mari though to herself.

A few seconds later, a brown-haired woman who she assumed was Sarah emerged from behind a wall. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Mari. "Court, who's this?"

"Oh, Mari?" Courtney smiled as she picked the boy up. "She's my new bodyguard."

"Where'd you find a female bodyguard?" Sarah asked.

"I didn't," Courtney replied as the boy tugged on her hair. "She found me."

Even though Courtney's reply didn't really answer the question, Sarah didn't push the topic, for reasons unbeknownst to Mari. Instead, she walked into the living room. Courtney and Mari followed.

As the two women talked and played with the child, Mari observed the room from a distance, standing near the wall. She observed the pictures on the wall, which displayed scenes from Sarah and some man's life. They had a wedding picture of the two of them, which led Mari to think they were married.

But the child had blue eyes, Mari noted. And neither Sarah nor her husband did.

 _How odd,_ Mari thought with a smile.

After a few hours, Courtney said goodbye to Sarah and the boy, who Mari had learned through eavesdropping was name George. Mari followed her out of the apartment, and back towards Matthew's.

"So, that was Sarah's," Courtney said as they walked. "Get used to her home, because I spend a lot of time there."

"Well, if you were there two days in a row," Mari replied, remembering what Courtney had told Matthew the day before about why she'd been out, "then I assume so."

Courtney's smile wavered slightly, and she looked away, though Mari couldn't tell why. Had she said something wrong?

Then she realized that the path from Sarah's to Matthew's did not intersect with the way from Olivia's to the supermarket. Which meant Courtney couldn't have been at Sarah's yesterday.

But if she hadn't been there... where  _had_ she been?


	18. Matthew

The panel meeting had been cancelled.

Olivia was too busy planning Matt's funeral, and David and Shayne were sick with the cold that always spread this time of year. Almost all Matthew did that day was talk to the young people who were running to be Governor's in this year's election, and he had to say, they weren't very promising. The Iustia party had been falling apart for awhile, sure (that was, after all, the only reason he even got in), but had they  _really_ sunk so low that one of the best people they could find had  _public anxiety_ , for crying out loud? She'd barely had the courage to shake his hand.

And without the other Governors, he was the one who had to respond to Fenzea's queen, who was begging for his help after her capital city was bombed by Inite's King. He stuck by his agreement with the other Governors, no matter how much it hurt him to do so. He could practically hear her tears through her words in the letter she'd sent them.

He angrily punched the buttons on the elevator. Why was it always him who had to do all the work? It felt like he didn't even have three other Governor's. He might as well be running the country himself, and that was the last thing he wanted. He knew how things turned out when one person had all the power, and he would do everything in his power to stop that from ever happening with him.

He slammed the door open and stormed inside. Courtney wasn't there to greet him, like usual; instead, the living room was empty. While he was sure Courtney as just asleep, it still seemed... eerie.

He poured himself a glass of water and brought it to his lips. Kolea may be the coldest of the four landmasses, but gosh, was the water from the mountains amazing. He'd tasted Fenzean and Initian water before, and it had felt like it was made of soot.

"You play a lot?"  
  
Matthew spat out his water.

He turned quickly, bracing the countertop for support. Mari was sitting on one of the couches, rolling a chess piece in her fingers. The chessboard was still out; he must've forgotten to put it away, or some servants had been playing. He didn't know which option was more plausible.

How'd she got in here? He hadn't heard a thing. Could she really move that soundlessly? It seemed the more he learned about her, the more terrifying she became.

 _You should stop thinking about her like that,_ he scolded himself.  _You don't even have a reason to be scared of her. Thoughts like these are what caused your nightmare._

Mari raised an eyebrow at him, and he realized she expected him to answer.

"Uh- yeah," He stammered out, instantly feeling embarrassed. He was making himself look like a fool. "A hobby of mine."

She looked back down at the board, placing the piece, which Matthew recognized as a rook, down as she did. "That's what I assumed."

"Where- where's Courtney," Matthew asked. If his wife were awake, she would've had Mari at her side. He'd seen how she'd been last night. From the look of things, she wanted Mari glued to her side.

"Asleep," Mari replied. "She didn't get much yesterday, so she was pretty much ready to pass out the second we got back."

"Back from where?" He asked. He hated how Courtney just left the house without giving him any indication of where she went. Especially now, after what happened yesterday. He couldn't help but feel concerned for her.

"Sarah Whittle's," She looked up at him, her face unreadable. Gods, those eyes. It was like they were staring right through him.

"For two days in a row?" He asked. Huh. Sarah's son must be more interesting to Courtney than he'd thought. Maybe she envied her; he knew that Courtney loved kids. Perhaps she'd be speaking of adoption soon. There was no way they'd conceive a child naturally; neither of them wanted to touch each other. If she wanted a child, that was her only option.

Mari smiled, like she knew something he didn't. "They are great friends."

There were a few seconds of silence. Mari picked up a pawn and started throwing it in the air, catching it easily no matter how far she threw it. Matthew watched her do it, observing the pawn rotate in midair before landing on her outstretched palm.

Why was she here? Was this some way to intimidate him? Or was she trying to break down his defences? Matthew was always one to overanalyze situations; this one was no exception. She was confusing, and he wanted to figure her out.

"Care to play a game?" She asked, letting the pawn land on the board instead of catching it. It wobbled, but stayed upright.

"You know how to?" He asked. As far as he knew, chess wasn't a common game among the Slums, if it was even played there at all; something which he doubted. Knowing the Slums' citizens, they were too busy beating the shit out of each other or starving. Possibly both.

"Of course," She replied, smiling smugly. "Wouldn't be asking you to play if I couldn't."  
  
Despite himself, Matthew found the corner of his mouth twitch. Anyone else would've had her kicked back to the Slums for that comment, but he'd always appreciated a sharp-tongued comeback. 

"Well then," He sat down on the couch across from her. "Let's play."  
  
Too late, he realized his defences were completely down. If she had a knife on her, he'd be done for. But Mari didn't even move as he sat down, besides to blink and tap her fingers on her knee.

There were a few seconds of silence as they stared at each other. Was she going to say something, or were they just going to start the game? Matthew didn't know why he felt so nervous, but by the Gods was he.

"White goes first," She gestured to the board, which had already been set up.

Well, that settles it, then.

He moved the pawn in front of his king two spaces and leaned back into his chair, folding his hands in his lap. Mari didn't even think before moving the pawn in front of her left horse.

She probably wasn't very good; none of his servants were. At least, compared to him. He'd been playing for years, and no matter how much he wished, he could never find a worthy opponent. He could always see what their next move would be; there was no surprise, no anticipation. It ruined the game for him in a way.

"How'd you learn how to play?" He asked as he moved another pawn.

"My father taught me," She replied as she moved. "His father brought a board with him when he was demoted. It's somewhat of a family heirloom at this point."

Demoted. Matthew wondered what he did. The only crimes that would dictate someone moving from the Suburbs to the Slums were the most severe ones; murder and rape. He must've done something horrible. Matthew hoped his granddaughter wouldn't follow in his footsteps.

"You've played a lot?" He asked.

"Just against my father," She replied as she moved her bishop clear across the board. "And he's been dead for years."

"So you're a bit rusty," Matthew observed. If she hadn't played for that long, then this would be even easier than he thought.

"Just as much as you," She replied coolly.

"I've played a lot in the past few years," He replied, raising an eyebrow, wondering what she meant by that.

"Not against people of your own level," She replied. "When was the last time you played a challenging game?"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Matthew asked. How had she figured that out? Was he that painfully obvious to his servants?  
  
"Oh, don't play dumb," She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're a smart guy, Matthew. It doesn't take a genius to see that."

Matthew observed her. He couldn't tell if she was complimenting her or laughing at him. He took note of how she'd used his first name. Did she feel like they were friends now, or was she using it to make him feel that way?

"Thanks for the flattery," He said.

"It's not flattery," She replied. "It's a fact."

She looked him dead in the eyes. Matthew stared right back, before looking back down at the board. He could feel her gaze on him as he planned out his next move, and it made his skin crawl.

"Check," He said, moving his bishop to take her horse. It was an obvious move, and he was slightly disappointed. This would be one of his quicker games.

Mari laughed. "That's what I wanted you to do."

She took his bishop with her queen. "Checkmate."

Matthew straightened his back and furrowed his eyebrows in shock. She somehow managed to corner him; her queen was on his king, while her bishop and castle prevented his king from moving. She'd trapped him, easily. How hadn't he noticed that? 

She was smiling at him, obviously smug. Matthew glanced up at her and scoffed at her expression, still in slight disbelief.

"Something tells me that you want a rematch," She laughed.

"Of course," He replied. "I need to regain my honour."

"Good luck with that," She smiled, her eyes glimmering in the light.

They played another round. Then another. Then another. They played until Matthew could barely keep his eyes open, and even then, he was half tempted to play on.

Out of four rounds, he had only won one.

Mari could read him like a book, it seemed. Every plan he made, she thwarted. For the first time in years, he had found an opponent who he could actually play. The thought made him excited beyond words.

He helped her clean up the board, seeing as she had no idea where it went. She had obviously been planning on shoving it under the coffee table until Matthew showed her it's proper place.

They found themselves standing awkwardly in front of one another. She was smiling, and it reached her eyes. He could feel himself smiling as well.

"Well, that was fun," He stated, scratching the back of his neck.

She nodded. "We'll have to do it again sometime."  
  
"Agreed," Matthew replied. "I have a reputation to restore."  
  
"Don't get your hopes up," she joked. "I have to keep mine up, after all."  
  
He laughed. It was the first time he could truly, honestly say that he had laughed at something in a long, long time. All the other times he had in the past few years had been forced, just to be polite, or because he felt awkward. This... this was refreshing. Like breathing in fresh air after being inside for days.

"Well, we'll see what happens tomorrow," She phrased it kind of like a question.  
  
"It's a plan then," He smiled. She nodded in agreement. "Goodnight, Mari."  
  
"Goodnight, Matthew," She replied, turning around. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."  
  
He watched her walk to the servants quarters with what he knew was a stupid smile on his face. The last person who had said that phrase to him was his mother, back when he was eight. The sheer ridiculous of it was endearing to him.

As soon as she was out of sight, he leaned against the wall and sighed. His heart was beating quickly, and he was starving. Somehow, he'd somehow forgotten all about his hunger while playing with her; she must've distracted him.

He grabbed some pasta and threw it in the microwave, checking his watch. It was far past the time he usually when to sleep, but that wouldn't be an issue. With the way work was going lately, he could fall asleep at his desk and there would be no consequences.

As he climbed into bed, he completely forgot about all his worries about his wife's new bodyguard. Instead, all he felt was excitement to see her again.


	19. Mari

"What do you have planned for today, ma'am?"

Mari looked up at Ariel, who had already finished her pancakes. Somehow, she'd managed to not get a drop of syrup on her plate.

Courtney absentmindedly poked at her's. She had somehow already prepared for the day, and looked like she had just come out of a photoshoot. "Just have to get the place prepared for Mrs. Moss' visit tomorrow."

 _Moss._ That last name sounded familiar to Mari, though she didn't know why.

Ariel nodded. "Very well. How extravagant would you like the home?"

Mari tuned them out and shoved some of her breakfast in her mouth. She found herself doing that a lot; Courtney was the very definition of a rich woman. Boring, uncharismatic, and pristine. She seemed perfect. The only thing that intrigued Mari about her was figuring out where she had gone the night she saw her, but she'd didn't care quite enough to actually try and figure out.

Instead, she glanced at Matthew, who was putting on his jacket. It had been a stroke of luck, finding the chessboard. Once she had, she just assumed that he was a player, based off what she'd seen of him. And she'd been right, of course.

She didn't quite know where she was going with it. At this point, she needed to maximize all her opportunities. This was a way to get close to him, and by Gods, was it one she was going to exploit. 

"Well, I suppose Mari will be helping you then," Courtney smiled, bringing Mari's attention back to the conversation. 

"Yes," Ariel replied. The way everyone spoke here was so... bland. Uptight. Formal. It felt unnatural to Mari, like robots trying to mimic human behaviour.

"Well, I'll leave it to you, then," Courtney placed her empty plate on the counter. Mari quickly finished her meal, knowing she didn't have much time.

Ariel nodded, and Courtney walked back to her room.

Mari spent most of the day with Ariel and the other servants, cleaning. Apparently, Mrs. Moss was another Governor's wife, and the meeting was about Governor Raub's funeral. It was a big event, after all, and who better to handle it then Korea's ruler's wives? Even if there were only two of them; Mrs. Raub was in a physic ward after trying to kill her and her son with pills, and Governor Topp was a bachelor.

Ariel had given her her new clothes, which fit like a glove and were softer than a lover's touch. She could barely even feel the bra. She had no idea how Ariel had done it.

It wasn't too hard. The Sohinki's didn't own any furniture that was hard to clean, and with all three of them, it didn't take very long for them to finish. At some point in that time, Matthew had returned. She didn't even get a look at him before he disappeared into his room. She wouldn't have even known he was home if it wasn't for his bodyguard.

Afterward, they started making dinner. They'd barely had enough time to put on aprons before they ran into a familiar problem.  
  
"We're out of flour, and we need more fruit," Ariel sighed as she looked in the pantry. "Mari, can you go to the supermarket? Eugene will drive you."  
  
"Yeah, sure," Mari replied. Eugene stepped forwards, and after they had gotten their shoes on, they rode the elevator to the parking lot.

Matthew owned two cars; his limo, and a small, red minivan. They got into the latter, with Mari riding shotgun.

They drove in silence. Mari had never been this close to a trained bodyguard before. They'd all heard the horror stories, about the senseless abuse that occurred in the Training Centers, all so they could break them down and build them up exactly how they wanted to. Eugene definitely seemed broken. She'd never seen him without his lips drawn in a pursed, straight line, his eyes devoid of anything.

It was eerie, and sent shivers down her spine.

"Uh, hey," She stared, trying to get any sort of human interaction out of this guy. "I'm Mari. I lived near Downtown. You?"  
  
She got no response and sighed, looking back ou the window. Then, to her surprise, he spoke.

"I don't remember," He replied, his tone as hard as ice. Mari decided that she preferred him when he was silent.

He stopped in front of a familiar building, and Mari got out. He made no attempt to move after she did, which made her assume he'd just be there when she got back. With that in mind, she made her way into the supermarket.

Gosh, did Mari  _hate_  this. Ariel had given her a list of things to buy, but she felt completely out of place here. Here, in these white halls that shined too brightly. Here, among the beige shelves lined with items in colourful boxes, all competing to grab your attention. Here, with all these options, options that would never be available to her. Every time she grabbed a fruit out of a box, she felt like polis would break through the ceiling and drag her away, knowing that she shouldn't be here. 

"Mari?"  
  
Mari turned. Standing in the meat isles, her hands clasped around a plastic shopping bag, was Monica.

"Hey, Monica," Mari replied awkwardly.

"What- what happened to you?" She asked.

"I was bought," Mari replied, tapping her shopping bag on her leg awkwardly. "By Governor Sohinki's wife."

"Oh," Monica replied. "So, you won't be returning, then."  
  
"No," Mari shook her head. "I won't."  
  
Monica nodded. "Okay. Goodbye then, I guess."  
  
"Yeah," Mari felt her pulse race. "Bye."  
  
The odds of her and Monica seeing each other again were incredibly low. If she could, she'd stand here and give Monica a whole speech on how much she appreciated everything she'd done for her and how much she'd miss her. But they were both on tight schedules. This was all they could afford.

With a last nod at each other, the two women parted ways. Mari felt like she wanted to cry.

She paid for the items and made her way outside, and back to the car. Eugene didn't even give her time to put on her seatbelt before he started up the car and started driving back. It jostled her a bit, but she didn't really mind.

They arrived back at the apartment quickly, and raced back upstairs. Ariel practically snatched the ingredients from her hands and laid them on the table, quickly getting to work. Mari and Kelsey followed suit.

At some point, Ned had started helping. With the four of them, the cooking took next to no time. They were, after all, only making a meal for two people. Ariel packaged it up and shoved it in the fridge, before they cleaned up the mess they'd made.

"Well, we're done," She smiled. "Free time!"  
  
Kelsey whooped, while Ned just went back to his post outside Matthew's door. Mari smiled.

The two women went back to their rooms, while Mari stayed put. Her work wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

She started rummaging through the kitchen, trying to find anything she could use as a weapon. There were knives, obviously, which were effective, but would be hard to use in her current situation if she didn't want to be blamed easily. Rat poison, but that would practically be signing her own death warrant. Bleach; that was too similar to rat poison. Pots and pans; worse than knives. That was it, unless she was planning on strangling him with saran wrap. Dissatisfied, she moved on.

The living room had nothing but pillows, but she could literally use anything to suffocate him if that was the plan. None of the board games had sharp pieces, not that she had been expecting them too. She spent most of her time in the room calculating distance; how far it was from where they sat for chess and the board-games closet to the hallway leading to his room, how far away he sat from her, and the like.

Next was Courtney's bathroom. She would've gone to Matthew's, but with Ned and Eugen there, it was too risky.

Courtney had more beauty supplied than Mari knew existed. She was sure that if she combined a few of them, they'd be poisonous. Her hair straightener could be used to cauterize wounds if Mari was desperate enough. Scissors and nail clippers could be used in a pinch.

By the time she was done, she had the basic layout of the house memorized, and where to find all potential weapons. She had been hoping that an answer to her problem would provide itself, but she had never been good with luck. But all that meant was that she had to think, to plan; and she was good at that. At least, Anthony had always said she was. Whether or not he could be believed was debatable.

But as she walked down the hallway to the servant's quarters, something caught her eye; a classic phone, placed on a wall hanger. She stared at it for a few seconds, before pulling it out.

She had no idea why Matthew and Courtney would have something like this, but she wasn't going to question it. She didn't even think before she dialled in Damien's number.

He picked up almost immediately. "How'd you get this number?"  
  
"It's me, you idiot," Mari kept her tone hushed and cupped her mouth to make sure he was the only one who could hear her.

"Mari!" he sounded excited. "Good. I was getting worried."  
  
"If they catch me, it'll be on the news," Mari replied. "Until that happens, don't."

She could practically hear him roll his eyes. "You make any progress?"

Mari nodded, before realizing he couldn't see her. "I'm in his house. Does that count?"

"You're in his house?" Damien half-screamed.

"Yeah, I saved his wife's life, and now I'm her bodyguard," She replied. "My only problem is that I can't think of a way to kill him without having it traced back to me."

Damien was silent for a few seconds. "I see your problem."

Mari scoffed and leaned against the wall, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I hope so."  
  
"What are the obstacles?" He asked.

Mari thought for a few seconds. "He's got two highly-trained bodyguards from the Academy, and a brain on him. House is practically weapon free."

Damien tisked. "Those are definitely obstacles."  
  
"Yeah, you think?"

He laughed. "You have a way to get close to him?"  
  
"I believe so," Mari replied. "He's a chess nut. I can play chess."  
  
"Well, keep that up," Damien suggested. "Play with him every chance you get. I'll tune it from time-to-time on his security cameras, make sure all your suspicious activities are deleted."  
  
"Thanks," Mari replied. "You're a lifesaver, Dames."

"Glad to be of service, milady."  
  
She laughed, before stopping abruptly. Her ears perked up, and it was dead silent as she listened. Damien must've been able to tell something was wrong, because he didn't say a word.

In the dead silence, Mari could hear them as clear as day. Footsteps.

She slammed the phone back onto the wall and started making her way to the Living Room. Matthew was already there, setting up the chessboard.

"Hey," she greeted, trying to calm down her raging heartbeat. How much had he heard?

Matthew looked up at her, his face next to expressionless. "Hey. You're late."  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that," She scratched the back of her neck. "Took a quick nap after work."

Matthew nodded. "I'm sure you did."  
  
Mari gulped, sweat collecting on the back of her neck.

He gestured to the chair in front of him. Mari didn't like his expression. It was impossible to read, which was the worse option. How was she supposed to figure out whether or not he had heard her?

She sat, and he leaned back into the sofa. He waved his hand at the board, and Mari noticed that she was white.

"Let's begin, shall we?" He asked.

 


	20. Matthew

Honestly, Matthew didn't know why Mari consumed his thoughts as much as she did.

Sure, she was pretty. Very much so. She was exactly what he found attractive in a woman, with her long hair, almond eyes, and muscled body. And she was far from stupid; heck, she was the first person he'd talked to for a long time that could keep a conversation going with him where he didn't have to dumb himself down.

It wasn't like he was in love with her. He barely even knew her! They'd only played three nights so far, for crying out loud. There was no excuse for her being on his mind almost every second.

But she was. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Tucking her hair behind an ear. Rapping her knuckles on the table. Shooting him a cocky smile as she took one of his pieces, her eyes glimmering.

Gosh, was he pathetic. It was like he was a little boy again. Next thing you knew he'd be pulling her hair.

Matthew shook his head, staring at the familiar buildings outside his limo's window as he was driven to work.  _Get ahold of yourself!_

For a brief second, he wondered how he'd feel if he figured out Courtney spent all her time thinking about some guy or girl. Would he even care? Would she even care if she found out how much Mari was on his mind?

He didn't know. When it came to his wife, he knew next to nothing. It was one of his biggest regrets. Maybe if he'd just tired a bit in the beginning, after they were first married, to make it work... who knows what they could've been. He might've learned to love her. Or, at least, to like her.

But he didn't. And now they were here, balancing between hate and indifference. He could only hope that neither of them tripped.

"Sir, we've arrived," Eugene's voice shocked him back into reality. He gave his bodyguard a curt nod and climbed out of his seat, before making his way to the elevator.

He barely had enough time to get to his office, sit down, and pull out his paperwork before Joven slammed his door open. "Matt, have I got some good news for you."

"What is it?" Matthew wasn't in the mood for a guessing name. He was in the mood for taking a nice, long nap. His almost daily games with Mari hadn't been very good for his sleeping habits.

"We've got a new candidate," Joven grinned.

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. That  _was_ good news. Compared to the lot they had, a fucking sloth would be an improvement.

"They any good?" Matt asked.

Joven nodded. "He's got a good reputation already. People will vote for him just because they see his name on the ballot. Tanner thinks it would be a good idea if you met him."

"Of course," Matthew yawned. Tanner was the leader of the party; he picked the candidates and gave the orders. He was also under Matt's thumb; Sarah Whittle's husband was known for his twitching trigger finger and quick temper. He probably wouldn't take it very well if he figured out Tanner was the real father of Sarah's child.

"Then lead the way," Matthew said, standing up. Whoever this candidate was, he had just become the Iustia party's last hope of ever having a majority on the panel.

Joven led him down a few floors and into one of the tower's many business meeting rooms. Sitting at the end of the long table were two men; Tanner Risner, and...

"You've got to be kidding me," Matthew muttered to himself.

Tanner smiled when he saw them. "Matthew, so glad to see you could make it. Meet our newest candidate, Noah Grossman. You've heard of him, I assume?"

"Of course," Matthew tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. Of fucking course it was Noah. Just his luck.

Noah walked over to them and extended his hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Governor."

Matthew took his hand in his own. "As I you. I've heard so much about you."

The younger man smiled. "I have earned myself quite a reputation, haven't I?"

"That you have," Matthew said through gritted teeth. He sat down, and Noah sat across from him.

"We'll leave you two to it, then," Tanner cleared his throat. "You've got a lot to talk about, I assume."

With those words, he left, with Joven not too far behind him, leaving Matthew alone with a boy who's viewpoints he completely disagreed with.

The two of them stared at each other for a few minutes, neither saying a word. He must know, then, exactly how Matthew felt about him. Noah certainly looked intelligent, and from the way he'd spoken at his many speeches, he definitely sounded like he had a brain on him. As much as Matthew hated to admit it, getting Noah as a candidate was one of the best moves the party could've made if they wanted any hope of winning the election. He already had a backing, and was popular enough among the youngest generation to bring them to the booths, something the party had been trying to do for years.

Didn't mean Matthew had to like it, however.

Noah took a sip of coffee from a cup Matthew hadn't noticed. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Matthew responded.

"Do you have nothing to say to me?" Noah cocked his eyebrow. "No choice words? No attempt at a debate?"

"A debate?" Matthew asked, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Yes," Noah tapped his fingers on the wooden table. "I know you aren't a fan of me, Governor."

"And how do you know that?" Matthew asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Some basic research and logical deductions," Noah replied nonchalantly.

"Research?" Matthew leaned forwards. What the hells did he mean,  _research?_

Noah nodded. "It's amazing how much you can learn about someone through a simple search in their records."

Matthew froze.

"I'm surprised none of your political enemies did the same," Noah shrugged. "There's a lot in there that would be quite... incriminating to your reputation."

Matthew shot to his feet. "Are you threatening me?"

Noah laughed. "Of course not. I'd never use someone's trauma against them. You were forced, after all. It wasn't like you had a choice."

He took another sip of his coffee.

Matthew sat back down, his hands shaking. He'd spent so much time trying to push the events of that night out of his mind that he'd almost forgotten it. Those had been the worst years of his life. The drugs, the alcohol, the violence and the blood. Being reminded of it felt like a slap in the face.

"That's why you hate me, isn't it?" Noah asked. "You suffered so much that you can't imagine how anyone could have it worse. How come the people in the Slums should get so much attention, when people in the Suburbs are suffering just like you did?"

Matthew couldn't find the words to respond.

"I can understand that," Noah continued. "But it's selfish, Matthew. We both know the people in the Slums are suffering. Domestic abuse happens all over the country, and it's a problem that needs to be addressed. People shouldn't be in situations like you were. But everyone in the Slums, every last one of them, is suffering. They are starving. Violence is as common there as breathing. People are killed over crumbs. Why shouldn't they get the help they need and deserve?"

"How dare you call me selfish, knowing what I went through?" Matthew wanted to scream. He wanted to tear his hair out. He wanted to pick up one of the chairs and beat the younger man over the head with it.

"Because that's what you're being," Noah replied. "Trying to deny thousands of people the help they need just because you never properly handled your trauma? That's selfish."

"Why are you bringing this up?" Matthew asked, his voice shaky despite himself.

"We both know I'm going to win, Governor," Noah leaned forwards. "We're going to be working together. We can't do that if you hate me."

"All you've done so far is make me hate you even more," Matthew growled.

"At the moment, yes," Noah replied. "You probably feel that way. But you're a smart man, Matthew. Once you think over my words, I'm positive you'll see reason. Those people need help, Governor."

"Why do you want to help them?" Matthew yelled, slamming his hand on the table. "One of them killed the man you loved! Do you not want justice for him?"

Noah's face hardened. "Of course I want Keith's killer to be brought to justice. But I understand the situation that made his killer. I'm positive it was an act of desperation, caused by the situations of their upbringing. If the Slums had been a better place to live, Keith would still be here today."

"You're delusional," Matthew growled.

"Keith never would've wanted me to bring out my anger on innocent people," Noah replied. "Do you think your brother would've wanted you too?"

His words took the wind straight out of Matthew's lungs.

"How dare you!" Matthew yelled. "How dare you mention him!"

His brother.  _Jon._ Sweet, caring Jon who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone a human. Who would always protect his little brother, no matter how much it hurt him to do so. Jon, the only person in his family he'd ever loved.

Jon, the brother he'd unwillingly helped kill.

"You know why," Noah stood up. "If I were you, Matthew, I'd talk to somebody. Don't let your grief control you, Governor. You're better than that."

And then he left, his steps echoing throughout the room, the sound of the door closing sounding like he'd slammed it, leaving Matthew alone to his thoughts.

The second he was gone, Matthew couldn't hold himself back anymore. He buried his head in his hands and started to sob. Ugly, hard and heavy sobs that racked his entire body. He sat there for who knows how long, letting his sadness overtake him.

He'd done such a good job over the past five years of holding those memories back, of erasing his childhood from his mind. He'd let his work overtake him, consume his every thought. Vaguely, he remembered reading that it was a coping mechanism. That some victims of abuse could forget events completely to keep themselves sane.

Whatever he'd done, it had been reversed now. Everything was rushing back. Every memory. Every bruise. Every shout of anger and every scream of pain. Every time he'd hidden under his bed, or cried in his closet. Every time his mother turned her head. Everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.

His anger was gone. Vaguely, he knew that he _should_  be angry at Noah, for doing this to him. But the more he thought about his words, the more they started to make sense. Maybe the young man was right. Maybe he was selfish. Maybe he should've dealt with his trauma differently. He'd never healed, really. He'd only ever pushed his feelings and memories as far away from himself as he could.

And he hated that. He hated that Noah was right. Because Jon never would've wanted him to end up like this. Jon would want him to help every single goddamn person he could. He would've wanted Matthew to heal, to learn to accept and live with his past, to know how it shaped him and acknowledged that. But Matthew had no idea how he could do that alone. And he had no idea who he could talk to about it. In this District, no one had experienced anything worse as a child than dropping their ice cream on the sidewalk. No one would be able to understand what he went through, or would be able to help him heal.

For the first time in years, Matthew felt truly, utterly alone.


	21. Mari

Mari had to admit; the Elite District was beautiful.

With it's tall and beautifully built buildings, pretty ads, shiny cars, and insanely and colourfully dressed people, it was certainly a sight to behold. As she ran down the streets, taking in her surroundings, she couldn't help but feel awestruck.

But the city didn't compare at all to the beach. 

Sure, the Slums had a beach, but it was covered in trash and was one of the most dangerous parts of the entire District. Here, however, it was next to empty. The sun shone brilliantly on the clear water, and the sand was soft and a beautiful light yellow in colour.

She stopped running and lay down, catching her breath. This was her favourite part of her new life. Every so often, when Courtney got through her daily tasks, she'd let Mari go and do whatever she wanted. So she'd run, half to keep up her physic, half just for the sheer pleasure of doing it. She loved the silence and the calmness of it. She loved having time to do nothing but think.

It was crazy to think about how long she'd been gone from home. As a little girl, she'd never thought that she would ever get to leave the Slums. And yet here she was, living among the rich. It had been what, a month and a half by now? She'd lost count. It felt like she'd been gone for months.

Sometimes, she wondered if she would even want to go back, if she'd ever even get the chance. She had no idea how she'd kill Matthew and frame someone or something else for it, and even if she did, who knows how she'd explain her sudden disappearance if she went back to the Slums. To top it all off, Damien had informed her that the person who had hired her was getting impatient. Was killing Matthew even worth it anymore?

Maybe it was time to retire. She could write a suicide note and fake her death. They'd already made a large sum of cash off her previous killings. It was possible for her to just end her career.

But then Boze wouldn't be able to feed any more children, like she loved doing. And Damien would have to stop sending money home to his sick and dying mother. The money would run out eventually. And even if it didn't, what would Mari do with her life? Become a pit fighter again? Waste away at the Spearmint Rhino, sleeping with whoever gave her a chance until her livers gave out?

No. That was not who she was. She was an assassin. And she was never going to give up.

With that thought on her mind, she stood up, ignoring the young couple in the water who's eyes were drawn towards her plain outfit. She walked off the beach and started running back to Matthew's apartment.

It didn't take long to get back. She pressed the buzzer, and a few seconds later, she heard the click of the door unlocking as Ariel let her in.

She didn't take the elevator. In all honesty, she hated that thing. Her stomach churned every time she went inside one, and she hated seeing herself in the mirrors that made up its walls.

Matthew's apartment complex was ten floors tall, with each one having its own apartment. Calling these places "apartments" wasn't really doing them justice. They were all five times the size of the biggest home in the Slums. If these were what were considered the smallest housing here, then their houses must look like mansions.

The stairs were steep and white. They were probably the blandest part of the tower. Maybe, sometime, she could paint them. Just run down them with a paintbrush in hand. She'd heard that the rainbow was a symbol of gay pride here. Maybe she could paint one of those. She liked women just as much as she liked men, after all. Kesley had said that was called "bisexuality." Mari wondered if that made her gay, or if she was stuck in some strange middle ground between gayness and straightness that made her too straight to be gay, but too gay to be straight.

Who knew here. Back in the Slums, they didn't have a label for anything, really. Anyone who felt anything for the same-sex was immediately considered gay, and that was that. Mari wondered if it was better that way. She didn't really like labels. She didn't like thinking of herself as different. As odd. But then again, labels would create a community of people who felt like you did. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about her feelings for women. Boze was far too straight to be able to have any sort of conversation with, and Damien's tastes and way of loving women was so far from her own it was impossible to talk to him either. Kelsey had referred to herself as bisexual. Maybe she could talk to her about-

_Smack!_

Mari didn't even half enough time to turn around the corner before colliding with something. She took a step back to regain her balance, slamming her hand into the wall to stop herself from falling _. What the hells?_

She looked up and found herself staring at a blond-haired, stocky man that looked oddly familiar from some reason. It took a few seconds before it clicked.

It was him. The hooded man from the Spearmint Rhino. She was standing face-to-face with the man who had hired her to kill Matthew. And she could tell that he recognized her too.

For a few seconds, it was silent. She could hear his breathing, which was ragged from what she could only assume was shock. A man that muscular wouldn't be exhausted from walking down three flights of stairs.

Finally, he broke the silence. "What the Hells are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you!" Mari shot back immediately. What was he doing here, in Matthew's apartment complex? You'd think that if you wanted someone dead, you wouldn't be making trips to their house unless you had a knife in your hand.

"That's none of your business," he growled, his eyes scanning the area. That was telling. This man had something to hide. "I'm the one who hired you. I have a right to know why you're here."

"Well, as the one who hired me, I think it should be quite obvious why I'm here!" Mari retorted, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm here to do what you hired me to do!"

"Swell job you've done of that," Shayne narrowed his eyes. "How many failed attempts have you had now? Two? Three?"

"You expected killing him to be an easy job?" Mari whispered hoarsely. "That it would only take me a few days to kill one of the most important men in the country?"

"I expected that much from the supposed best assassin on the market," he replied angrily. "Keith was one of the most famous singers in the entire country, and you put an arrow through his head easily. I don't see how Matthew would've been any harder."

"He didn't give me a clean shot," Mari replied. "And he grabbed my knife, as I'm sure you've heard."

"That was over a month ago," he growled. "You've had plenty of time since then. I assume you're the one who poisoned Matt Raub. How the Hells were you idiotic enough to get their cups mixed up?"

"I wasn't," Mari replied coolly. "He switched them himself. Matthew's a smart man. He figured it out somehow."

"Well, _Atomic,_  I suggest you figure out a way to thwart him soon," he threatened. "I'll give you another month. Then the deals off."

"There was never a time limit in our original deal," Mari said angrily. How dare he! If you hired her to kill someone, you couldn't back out. That wasn't how this worked.

"There is now," he almost yelled, making an attempt to walk by her.

Mari wasn't going to stand for this. She grabbed his wrist and twisted, slamming him into the wall before pressing her weight into his back, effectively pinning him down. "If you have such easy access to his apartment complex, why don't you just kill him yourself, if you're so sure its that easy?"

He struggled against her, but Mari didn't let up. Her vision was clouded with rage. No one, and she meant no one, was going to pull out of a deal with her. She'd take as much time as she damn well pleased, thank you very much.

"Let me go," he demanded. "You have no idea what you're talking about, whore."

She twisted his wrist a little more. "What did you just call me?"

He didn't respond, so she twisted even more. He let out an audible hiss of pain. "Now listen here, you fucking bastard. I'll take as much time as I please, and you're going to be happy about it. Got it?"

No response. A harder twist. "Fine! Fine. No time limit. Just let me go!"

She did, and he massaged his wrist while shooting her a death glare. Then he practically ran down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet as he did.

After he was out of sight, Mari leaned against the wall. Gods, how stupid was she? That man knew her identity, and where she was. He could easily rat her out to the polis and have her killed. She couldn't imagine that Matthew would be pleased to hear that news.

Wait. Why the fuck did she give a fuck what Matthew thought? He was her target. That was it. They were far from friends. The only time she should be thinking about him was when she was plotting to kill him.

She shook Matthew out of her mind and started walking back up the stairs. If that man were smart, he'd keep his mouth shut. She remembered every aspect of his face. If he turned her in, she'd give the polis an adept description of what he looked like. She'd be damned if she let that man turn her in without taking him down with her.

When she finally reached the apartment, she couldn't have been happier. She pressed her hand onto the fingerprint scanner and opened the door, leaning against it as she shut it behind her.

"You okay?" Courtney was sitting on the couch, a comic open in her hands. Her hair was slightly dishevelled. 

"Yeah," Mari forced a smile on her face. The last thing she needed was Courtney suspecting her. "Just exhausted."

"I've told you to start taking the elevator," Courtney tsked. "The stairs are the last thing you need after a long run."  
  
"But they do wonders for your leg muscles," Mari said s Ariel handed her a cup of water. "If I want to kick people in the face and actually manage to harm them while doing it, I'm going to need to go up the stairs."  
  
"Suit yourself," Courtney looked back down at her comic. "Us sensible people will use the elevator."  
  
"I will," Mari handed Ariel the empty cup with a grateful smile. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to take a nap."

Despite her exhaustion, as she lay on her bed, sleep was the last thing on her mind. Instead, she looked at her ceiling, thinking.

Who was that man? And why was he here? Mari couldn't imagine that he'd gone to anyone else's apartments. Matthew was the only person in this tower who was of any importance, at least to her knowledge. But then again, Matthew was still at work. Whatever or whoever that man was here for, it wasn't Matt.

Why did she care, anyways? He was still going to pay her. That should be her only worry. She didn't need to know his identity. It wasn't like she had known any of her other clients' identities. Anthony would've been ashamed of her.  _Always keep your eyes on completing the mission._ That was what he had always told her. Trying to figure out blondies' identity was a waste of her time. She missed Boze and Damien, and she was sure they missed her too. If she wanted to see them again any time soon, she'd have to kill Matthew quickly.

"Eyes on the prize, Mari," she muttered to herself. "Eyes on the prize."

But as she lay on the soft mattress, staring at the ceiling, she knew that staying focused was a far way away.


	22. Matthew

Matthew hated to admit it, but Noah was right.

Ever since their conversation, his mind had been his worse enemy. Every time he closed his eyes, he was plagued with memories of his past. The pain returned, making the scars that covered his body burn. It was horrible. And there was no way to stop it. No way to run from himself.

He'd thought he'd healed, before. But he hadn't. All he'd done was bury his memories and feelings deep inside himself, and now that they were unleashed, they threatened to consume him.

Work helped. It was a distraction. But when he came home, and was left alone to his thoughts? It was a nightmare. He spent most of his time in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Every once in a while he'd start sobbing. Tonight was no exception.

At least, it wasn't until he heard a knock on his door.

He quickly dried his eyes off with his blanket and rushed to open it. Leaning against the doorframe was Mari, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail and a bored look on her face. 

Matthew was surprised to see her. It had been three days since their last chess match, and somewhere in between, he'd forgotten about them. Well, forgot or just not thought about them. Who knows.  
  
"Hey," she remarked, looking him up and down. He looked ridiculous in his nightgown and messy hair, but his mind was too consumed with other thoughts to care.

She'd probably already noticed something was up with him from they way he'd been acting lately. He'd always spent a lot of time in his room, but the amount of time he'd been spending lately was ridiculous. Was she worried about him? 

"It's been a while since our last game. Do you want to play or should I just fuck off?" she asked in her typical-Mari style that he liked so much.

A breath that almost sounded like a chuckle escaped his lips. He thought about it for a few seconds and quickly made up his mind. Any distraction was welcomed at this point. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do."  
  
She smiled. "Great. See you in the living room."

Then she turned on her heels and walked away. Matthew shut the door and got dressed out of his nightgown and into more casual clothes before meeting her outside. By that point, she'd already set up the board and was waiting for him, sitting on the black side.

He sat down opposite her and made his move. They spent the entire first game in silence. Mari won, but he blamed that on his lack of focus. 

As they set up the next game, Mari finally spoke. "So, what's been bothering you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Matthew replied, far too quickly.

"Don't give me that," Mari scoffed. "I'm not an idiot."

"It's none of your business," Matthew shot back.

Mari rolled her eyes. "Is it not, now?"

"No, it isn't," he retorted.

"Fine," she sighed. "Your move."

A total of ten more moves were made in silence. The air was laced with tension. There was a quiet, visible anger burning in Mari's eyes.

Did she actually care about him, or was she putting on an act? Matthew couldn't tell. Not that he could tell anything about her. Mari was an utter, complete mystery to him.

Part of him wanted to tell her, but another part held him back. What good would it do? it wasn't like she'd understand what-

Matthew paused mid-move, making Mari raise her eyebrow. He quickly composed himself and finished his action.

Mari was from the Slums. Opanx's breeding ground of misery, pain, suffering and violence. There was no way she hadn't experienced physical pain in her life. Maybe it wasn't domestic, but she definitely had. He could see the scars lining her body, ones given by a person who didn't care about other's seeing. Out of everyone in the District, she was the closest he'd get to someone who would understand his pain.

"What was your childhood like?" he blurted out, not even thinking about the words until they were said.

The question visibly surprised her, but she quickly collected her cool. "Why?"

"I want to know," he lied. It was a horrible lie, but it was the only one he had.

She clearly didn't believe him, but she answered anyway. "Tough. We never had enough money, but no one ever did in the Slums. We weren't rich enough to get me even the tiniest sliver of education, but I didn't have to work until I was twelve, so I was lucky in that regard. At least three days a week I went hungry."

"Were your parents nice to you?" he asked.

"I don't remember my mother," she replied. "She was a servant. Got her first job when I was three, and I never saw her again. Every once in a while, she'd send us a note along with her paycheck, but that was all the contact I had with her. We weren't allowed to write her back. Security reasons, they told us. Like a seven-year-old was any danger to a member of the Elite."

"What about your father?" he asked.

Mari sighed. "He loved me. A lot. He taught me how to read and write, play chess, and defend myself. Every spare second he had he spent with me. But every night he'd head to the bar, and come back covered in bruises. Some days he was so injured he fainted as soon as he got through the door."

"What was he doing at the bar?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Ever heard of pit fights?" Mari asked me. I shook my head. "In almost every bar in the Slums, there are holes carved into the ground, which are filled with sand. Every night they get fighters, usually men, to almost clobber each other to death. Sometimes they do."

"And he was one of them?" Matthew asked.

Mari nodded. "Family tradition."

She didn't have to explain what she meant by that. Matthew imagined her, standing in a makeshift arena, facing off against men twice her size. No wonder she was so strong. She needed to be.

"That sounds horrible," Matthew shuddered.

Mari shrugged. "There aren't many ways to make money. It pays well."

"Then why did you have to enter the pits?" he asked. "Wouldn't your father's salary be enough?"

"It was," she closed her eyes. "Until the day he entered a battle he couldn't win and died for it. I was twelve."

"I'm sorry," his words weren't hollow, surprisingly. After years of politics, it surprised him whenever he found himself saying genuine words.

"Yeah, well, you learn to adjust," she replied. "I committed some petty theft until I was fourteen, before I was hired as a bartender. When that proved to not be enough, I moved to fights. You do anything to survive, down there."  
  
"If you committed petty theft, how'd you get hired?" he asked. "They don't let people who have a criminal record become servants."  
  
She laughed. "I said I _committed_ it, darling. Not that I got  _caught."_

He found himself smiling at her words. There was something about her that was calming. He felt like he could be himself around her, which didn't happen often. Maybe it was her position, maybe it was her. Whatever it was, he liked it.

"So your parents loved you," he muttered.

Mari raised an eyebrow. "Didn't yours?"

He made his decision quickly. He was sick of keeping it bottled up inside himself, of keeping that pain all to himself. He didn't care if it would change everything between them. He needed to get it off his chest.

It was time to talk about it.

"My mother did," he replied. 

"And your father?" she asked, moving a pawn.

"He was a monster," it felt calming to say it out loud, on his own terms.

"What?" Mari didn't even bother to hide her surprise. "Why?"

"He abused us," once the floodgate was open, the words just came pouring out. "Me, my mother, my brother. Every night, he'd come home from the bar, and find one of us. My mother used to hide us in closets, trying to hide us from his anger. It worked some nights, when he was too drunk to think right. Most nights, he found us, and we ended up right next to our mother on the floor. He'd kick us, whip us, punch us. One time he stabbed me repeatedly with his polis badge. But he was always very, very careful not to leave a mark where someone could see it. He was always sober enough to manage that."

Every thought, every memory, all came out of him at once. "It took a couple years, but he ended up breaking my mother. She'd do everything he told her too without a word. During the day, she'd perform every domestic duty you could think of, before sitting on our sofa seat and smoking a cigarette. She always had a dull, lifeless look in her eye, and she wouldn't respond if you tried to talk to her. She might have well been dead.

"It got worse after that. She wouldn't scream anymore, which left my father bored. The beatings got worse and worse. One night, when he was in a particularly bad mood and I found myself the target, my brother Jon tried to save me. Punched the monster square in the face. But it was a fight he couldn't win. My father-" Matthew's voice cracked, "my father beat him to death for that.

"After that, I finally got the courage to run away. But there was no one for me to turn to. What was I supposed to do, go tell the polis, so my father's colleagues could deliver me straight back to him?

"I lived on the streets for a while, before a richer Suburban lady found me and decided to adopt me. It was a publicity stunt, and I knew that, but I didn't care. Getting as far away as I could from him was my only goal, and I didn't care how I accomplished it."

He paused. There was a look of utter shock on Mari's face. "So yeah, my father didn't love me."

"Holy shit dude," Mari muttered. Their game had been completely forgotten about at this point.

"Yeah," he smiled. Then he started to sob. Horribly.

And then her arms were around him and she was hugging him fiercely. Her embrace was comforting, and he found himself leaning into her. They stayed like that for a while. No words were spoken. They didn't need to be. Just having her there was telling enough;  _I'm here for you._

"It's pretty late," he finally said. He wished they could stay like that longer, but if they did, he was worried he wouldn't ever leave. And the last thing he wanted was Courtney finding them like that. "We should go to bed."

Mari let him out of her embrace and nodded her head. "Okay."  
  
"Thank you," he blurted out.

"For what?" she asked.

"For listening," he replied. "For being here. No one's ever done that before."

She grasped her hand in his. "Then you've been hanging out with assholes."

He laughed. "Goodnight."  
  
"'Night," she replied. Then, with one final hug, she rushed to her room.  
  
Matthew watched her go and sighed before heading back to his own. He didn't even bother to get changed before lying down on his bed.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Just having someone listen to him... who knew that would feel so good? That it would help so much?

His pain wasn't completely gone, of course. It would take far more than that to properly get over his trauma. But, at least now, he felt free. Like chains had been taken off his wrists. Like he was breathing in air after being choked.

And Gods, did that feel  _good._


	23. Mari

For the first time yet, Mari was unsure of herself.

It was supposed to be easy, killing him. She'd killed so many men before him that it was almost like second nature to her at this point. The first two attempts she'd made on his life she didn't even have to think twice about. But now...

Now she wasn't so sure.

Because every time she thought about killing Matthew, every time she pictured stabbing him in his sleep or slipping some poison into his drink, her gut wrenched. And it unsettled her to her core. This wasn't supposed to happen. It never was.

It was rule number one in her line of work, the first one Anthony had taught her, days after he wrenched her out of the fighting pits and hired her as his partner; never, ever start to care about one of your targets. 

And Mari cared about Matthew. A lot. Last night had cemented that. No matter how much she hated it, she did. There was a bond between the two of them now, one she couldn't break.

Killing him was going to be a Hell of a lot harder now.

"Mari?" Courtney asked, looking over the morning paper she was reading to stare at her from across the table. "You okay? You look a bit spaced out."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mari replied, grabbing her orange juice and taking a long sip. "Just... thinking. I go into my own little world sometimes, you know?"

"Mhm," Courtney replied, having already gotten bored of the conversation and gone back to reading her paper. Ariel shot Mari a knowing smile as she washed the dishes. Kelsey rolled her eyes as she put the ingredients they'd used to make breakfast away and placed Matthew's breakfast on the counter.

A few minutes later, Matthew surfaced from his room, already dressed. As per routine, he grabbed his breakfast and ate it quickly before grabbing his briefcase and rushing out the door with Eugene and Ned. As the door closed, he and Mari made eye contact for a few seconds too long, which no one noticed. Then he was gone. Mari polished off her orange juice.

"So, what's in the agenda for today?" she asked as Ariel cleared off the table.

Courtney put down her newspaper. "We're going to be going to an orphanage. Take some pictures for the press. You know how everyone is nowadays with all that Noah Grossman stuff, pretending to care about those underneath them. It'll make us look good."

"Ah," Mari replied, suppressing the urge to scowl. "Anything else?"

"Just some tea with Sarah," Courtney replied smoothly. "I won't need you for that."

"What?" Mari asked. Courtney _never_ went anywhere without her, even if she was going to visit a friend she trusted with her life.

"Ah, yes, well, Sarah has some bodyguards of her own, so I'll be fine," Courtney smiled. "Thought that I'd give you some free time for once, so you can go on another one of your runs or whatever you do when you have spare time."

"Oh," Mari replied, not believing a word she said. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Courtney nodded before picking her newspaper back up.

Mari stood up. "I'll go get dressed, then."

As she walked to her room, Mari thought about what Courtney said. It was so unlike her. Whenever she was in public, she always had Mari glued to her hip. She'd even show her off sometimes;  _look at this female bodyguard I found!_  Something about blowing her off made Mari's stomach turn.

Not that she was upset that she wasn't going to be spending time with the woman. Courtney was bearable, but she wasn't exactly someone that Mari would befriend in any other circumstance. Just... why would Courtney blow her off?

She opened her drawer and pulled out one of the many suits Ariel had ordered for her and got dressed. _Unless... unless Courtney is hiding something from me._

Mari froze. That had to be it. There was no other explanation. Which meant she couldn't be seeing Sarah today; that woman was about as good at keeping secrets as she was at raising her child.

Curiosity bubbled up inside of her, but she quieted it down. Whatever Courtney was doing, it wasn't any of her business. She was here to kill Matthew. That was it. Not spy on his wife.

She straightened out her suit and walked back into the living room. Courtney was already ready, wearing a simple short blue dress and dangling pearl earrings. Ariel was standing beside her, dressed in a suit identical to Mari's. She'd probably be their chauffeur, as Eugene was busy guarding Matthew.

The three woman exited the apartment and made their way down to the street. Courtney pressed some buttons on the parking meter, and a limo popped up soon after. Ariel opened the door for them, and soon, they were off.

It wasn't a very long drive to the orphanage; an hour at most. It wasn't one in the Slums, of course; Courtney wouldn't be caught dead there. Instead, it was located in one of the higher Suburb Districts.

The orphanage was a small, drab building, but seemed to be structurally sound. A nun was waiting outside with around twenty children, along with a camera crew. As Courtney rushed up to meet them, Mari hung back by the limo, standing stoically for the cameras.

She thought of the orphanage back home. That one hadn't been close to as nice as this one. In her brief stay there before she ran away, she had stayed in a room with crumbling walls and that smelled like rotten meat. Meals were once a day and small. There were no nuns there, replaced by women who were addicted to at least one drug and couldn't get a job anywhere else. It had been more than enough for the streets to seem like a better option.

As she watched Courtney take pictures with the kids and hug them, crouching down to get on their level to speak with them, it took all of the strength she had to not pull every camera there out of the cameramen's arms and throw them against the ground. This disgusted her. No one here cared about the children. Not Courtney, not the nun, not the cameramen. It was just a PR stunt, to promote either themselves and their religion. Once the cameras were gone, the nun would just go back to going against everything she preached.

An hour later, Courtney was done. Mari forced herself to smile as she opened the door for her.

"Did I look okay?" she asked as they sat in the back. Ariel had the screen rolled up, so Mari couldn't see or hear her, and vice-versa.

"You looked amazing," Mari replied offhandedly a Courtney looked at herself in her pocket mirror. "Would hate for all of that to be for nothing."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Mari looked out the window, watching the houses as they sped by. She recognized some of them from her drives back from missions with Boze. God, did she miss those drives.

She glanced over at Courtney, who was on her phone, smiling. A question popped into her head, and, before her common sense could get the best of her, she asked it.

"Do you love him?"

Courtney looked up abruptly. "What?"

"Do you love him," Mari repeated. "Your husband. Matthew."

Courtney looked at her like she was crazy, which Mari felt like she was. That was the stupidest question she could have asked. Courtney could fire her over that.

Well, she could fire her over anything, but especially that.

"Well..." Courtney looked like she was at a loss for words. "That's a very hard question to answer, Mari."

"And?" Mari asked. She already opened the can of worms. She might as well start fishing.

"Matthew and I... it's complicated," Courtney sighed. "We were an arranged marriage, put together by my father. I was young and stupid, so I just went along with it. I was under the impression that we could make it work."

She shook her head. "But we couldn't. Because he didn't even try. He'd work long hours and go straight to his room when he came home. After a while, I just gave up. Takes two to tango, you know?"

"Yeah," Mari replied. "I do."

Courtney snorted and looked out the window. "So to answer your question, no. No, I don't. Why should I? What reason have I been given too? This marriage stole my life from me, and I got  _nothing_  from it."

It was silent for a few seconds before Mari responded. "You hate him, don't you?"

"Hate him?" Courtney sighed. "No, I don't. I hate my father. He knew what he was doing when he walked me down that aisle. Matthew was just the bullet he used to shoot me with."

"And the only thing keeping you here," Mari replied. In the upper classes, one divorce could ruin your entire career.

"Yes," she replied. "And me to him. This marriage is a prison, and neither of us have the keys."

In that second, it struck me how utterly  _alone_  she was. Her marriage was loveless, all her friends were fake, and she couldn't take a step without a camera being shoved in her face. If I was her, I would be completely miserable. 

We spent the rest of the ride in silence. There was no way to respond to that, and there was an aura of awkwardness between us. I was probably the only person she'd ever said that too. I wondered if she felt like a weight had been lifted or if she'd just dug herself into a deeper hole.

Eventually, the limo rolled to a stop. Courtney pocketed her phone and shot me a smile. "See you soon, Mari."

"Yeah, see you," I replied as she climbed past me and out of the door. As soon as she was out, Ariel rolled the divider down.

"Please talk to me," she begged. "I haven't had any human contact for three hours, and I'm slowly losing my mind."

Mari laughed and tried to put my last conversation out of her mind. "Shoot."

A few minutes into the conversation, Mari realized that she wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about Courtney, so she didn't try to. As half of her mind talked to Ariel, the other half thought about where the woman was. 

If she was that unsatisfied with her marriage, she was probably having an affair. But she'd never seen Courtney with any man beside Matthew before, and, as far as she knew, Courtney was straight. She really had no clue who Courtney was with.

They arrived at the apartment soon after. Ariel somehow roped her into doing chores, and the next thing Mari knew, she was washing dishes.

Three hours later, Courtney arrived. Minutes after her, Matthew strolled in. For the first time in the entire history of Mari being here, they all ate dinner together. Then everyone retired to their rooms.

Except for Mari, of course, who was too busy setting up that night's chess match. After the events of the day, some time with the only person who came close to understanding her sounded like Heaven.


	24. Matthew

The nightly chess game was uneventful. Mari looked tired. We talked about small things, most of which I couldn't remember. It was nice, being around her, and I felt disappointed as I watched her walk back down the hallway towards her room.

• • •

Work the next day was stressful. Noah's joining of the party had changed everything. Now, almost everyone's focus was directed on his campaign; including Matthew's. He spent most of the day making calls and directing Noah's team, telling them where to put up signs, which neighbourhoods to visit, and the like. He must say, for such a smart man, Noah hired some of the stupidest people Matthew had ever met.

The panel meeting seemed calm in comparison. It had been awhile, but Matt Raub's empty seat was still glaring and prominent. All four of the remaining members avoided looking at it, as if it would give them the plague. Their conversation that day was boring, about security on the wall between the Slums and the Suburbs, seeing as a man had made it across a few days ago and was found in the Suburbs. They resolved it quickly, deciding to hire twenty more guards for it.

There was a highlight, though; he and Noah had had a long talk about their earlier conversation. Matthew hadn't told him about Mari, instead calling her "a friend," which for some reason didn't feel like an accurate label, but told him everything else. Noah had recommended a therapist, which Matthew was still debating about calling. He'd have to talk to Mari about it first.

By the time he'd gotten home, he was exhausted. After at least six hours of nonstop phone-holding, his fingers still curled over his palm, like they were expecting to hold one. He ended up using his left hand to open the doorknob, as he soon discovered that it hurt to move his right.

As he stepped inside, he was met with an unusual sight.

Mari was in the living room, in the area of space between the coffee table and the T.V, which gave her quite a bit of room. The T.V was on, but it wasn't playing a show. Instead, the screen showed the cover of an album and the name of a song, neither of which he recognized. Electronic music blasted out of the speakers.

And, in her little pocket of free space, Mari was  _dancing._

It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Here, dancing was stiff and calculated. The only songs anyone danced to were slow and classical; violins and the like. The few songs they did have that were fast were only played by rebels, like Olivia, and no one knew quite how to dance to them, so everyone ended up looking awkward and clumsy. The Suburbs, in their desperate attempt to mirror the rich, had been no different.

But Mari was something else entirely.

She moved perfectly with the music, like it flowed through her veins. She twisted and rolled her hips, stepped freely, turned and swayed and moved like it was natural to her. Matthew had never seen her look as beautiful as she did now, with sweat beading her skin and her breaths heavy, dancing like no one was watching.

When he was younger, he and Jon would sneak out at night with their family's one phone and play whatever music they wanted, and dance. It was their form of freedom, and quickly became the highlight of Matthew's day whenever it happened. After Jon died, he'd tried to do it alone, soundlessly, but he always felt empty without his brother by his side. It had been years since he'd last danced, and he had no idea how much skill he still possessed.

Mari turned, and noticed him staring at her. They made eye contact for a few seconds before she lunged for the remote and turned off the T.V.

"Hey," she said awkwardly.

"Hey," he replied, scratching the back of his neck.

A silence fell over them. Matthew didn't know how to react. He wanted to tell her that she was the most talented dancer he'd ever seen, but the words got caught in his throat.

"Uh, where's Courtney?" he asked instead.

"Asleep," Mari replied. "She listens to white noise to help her sleep, so I assumed I could do this without waking her."

"Smart presumption," he replied, throwing his hands in his pockets. "What about Ariel and Kelsey?"

"Off doing chores," Mari answered. "Courtney gave them a miles-long list, so they'll be gone for awhile."

"Ah," Matthew replied. A question popped into his mind. "Was- was that music from the Slums?"

"Oh, this," Mari looked back at the T.V, then at him. "Yeah, it was."  
  
"I didn't know you could access that here," he remarked. "How'd you get it?"

"One of you Elites decided you liked it," Mari explained. "It was in fileshare. Someone uploaded it, and I opened it."

"Oh," Matthew replied. "That's fortunate."

"Yeah," she placed her hands on her hips. "It is."  
  
Another awkward silence followed her words. Mari rushed to the kitchen to get some water, desperate to get out of the situation. As she did, Matthew turned the T.V back on.

The album picture was nothing but blackness; the artist probably didn't have enough money to design one. The song was called "Ice," and the artist was named Cody Ko.

"Where'd you learn to dance?" Matthew asked her.

Mari downed her water and placed the glass on the counter. "Back home. Everyone dances in the clubs."

"You guys must be some pretty incredible dancers, then."

She smirked. "We are."

Matthew gestured the remote at the T.V screen. "How did he make this? I didn't know that there was sufficient enough technology to make that kind of music in the Slums."

"There is," she replied. "It's just incredibly expensive. Costs an arm and a leg to get. Of course, all the clubs are so desperate for new music that you make your money back almost instantly."

She walked to his side and turned to look at him. "Do you dance?"

It took him a few seconds to respond. "In a way."

"Well, then," she smiled at him and took the remote out of his hands before resting her thumb on the play button. "Why don't you show me?"

The question set his nerves on fire. He'd be nothing compared to her; that was obvious. He knew he'd just end up embarrassing himself; it had been forever since the last time he danced. But the way she was looking at him, light dancing in her eyes, like this was a challenge, made him go against his instincts.

"If you want me to," he replied.

Mari grinned and stepped closer to him. "I'd like nothing more."  
  
That was probably an overstatement, but Matthew was too distracted with how little space there was between them to care. Her eyes shone as he took off his suit jacket. Then she skipped to the next song in the album, and the room was alive with sound.

It washed over him like a wave, and everything came rushing back. Every night he'd spent with Jon, practicing and practicing. The same feeling of freedom he's felt back then overcame him, and then he was  _moving,_ right along with the music, as if it was what he had been born to do. He barely even had to think about it.

When he glanced over at her, he noticed that Mari was looking at him, an emotion in her eyes that he couldn't quite pinpoint. They stared at each other for a few seconds before she stepped forward and started dancing as well.

He knew instantely that it was a challenge. Everything was a challenge between them. It was their protocol. So as she made her way in front of him, Matthew stood still, letting her take her turn.

Watching her made him lose a bit of hope. She already knew the song, and moved along perfectly with it. But if there was one thing Matthew was, it was competitive, and he would be damned if he was about to give up.

She finished and stepped back, letting him take his turn. He instantly started moving. The song was a little repetitive, so he categorized it by sound, moving a body part every time he heard it, swaying his body the entire time.

Mari started her next turn by dropping to the floor and spinning, kicking her legs around in a flurry of movement. Matthew responded by balancing himself on his hands (something that had taken him two months to do properly with Jon's help) and kicking his legs around with the rhythm before jumping back up with a spin.

They kept going, taking separate turns, before they eventually started blending together, no longer pausing for one another, responding to each other's moves on the spot. It kept escalating from there as they got closer and closer to one another, until eventually, they were dancing together, the challenge forgotten as Matthew placed his hands on her waist.

Then they were moving in harmony, spinning and twirling and swaying together. Matthew was incredibly aware of how close they were, and could feel a current under his skin whenever it made contact with her's. The world had split into two; them and their dance floor, and everything else. 

They were in dangerous waters now. Matthew could sense it. The chess games had been pushing it; this had taken a step into forbidden. Having a relationship with a servant was strictly forbidden. If someone saw him right now, they'd hold it above his head for the rest of his life; just like he was doing to Keith Habersberger.

If he was in his right mind, he would pull away, leave the situation. But he wasn't in his right mind. Mari had that effect on him. All he could think about was her; the way her skin felt, the way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she moved. No other thoughts could enter his mind. There was only her.

The song ended, and Matthew found himself with Mari in his arms, dipped. They were both breathing heavily, their skin shiny with sweat, staring into each other's eyes with giddy smiles on their faces.

Too late, Matthew realized what was happening, what had been happening to him for weeks. He had been slowly falling in love with her, each chess game pulling him closer and closer to her, as he distracted himself with work. But now, here, with her in his arms, the dams broke, and his feelings for her flooded into his mind so intensely that they almost drowned him, almost disconnected him from the situation entirely.

There wouldn't be any distractions anymore. The truth was staring him straight in the face through brilliant dark black almond eyes.

Their faces were so close. He could kiss her, he realized, easily. He'd barely even have to move.

They stared at each other for a long time. The next song played in the background, but he could hardly hear it through his heart beating in his ears. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her lips, more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

But before he had the chance, Mari pulled herself out of his arms, her cheeks slightly pink, though if it was from the exercise or their interaction, Matthew couldn't tell you. He didn't take Mari as the blushing type. And for her to be blushing, it would mean that she liked him too. And why would someone as perfect and smart and strong and beautiful as her like someone like him?

"I'm- I'm going to take a shower," she stammered.

"Okay," Matthew breathed. "That's a good idea."

She nodded before rushing down the hallway. Matthew watched her go, wanting to call out to her. But what could he possibly say?

Then he was alone, standing in his sweat-stained suit in the middle of his living room, feeling more alone than he ever had before in his life.


	25. Mari

**(There is a smut in this chapter. You have been warned).**

As she got the shower ready, Mari's mind was muddled. She couldn't think straight. What had just happened? She couldn't tell you.

It was the cold water that finally shocked her back to her senses.

She leaned against the shower wall for support as she thought about everything that had just happened. Dancing with him was a mistake. Gosh, what had she been thinking? She should've just left the second he walked in.

But, of course, she just had to challenge him, and let the situation escalate from there.

Mari hit the wall in frustration and watched as blood from the resulting cut washed down the drain. She was supposed to be a professional at this. But here she was, breaking rule number one. Because as much as she hated to admit it, she had felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him back there, one she'd barely been able to overcome. 

If she ever found herself in another situation like that... she didn't know if she'd have the strength to remove herself from it. She needed to kill Matthew. Fast.

• • •

The next day, Courtney had a doctor's appointment. Mari had to wait outside the door in the waiting room for an hour. The room had been mostly white, with blue chairs, wooden tables with magazines strewn on them, and a few shelves holding both books and toys. The patients there had been men, women, and children alike, and all of them stared oddly at her until they were called out.

Oh, the joy of being the only female bodyguard in the city. When Courtney's appointment ended, she couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Courtney had a fever, it turned out, so Mari got the rest of the day off as Ariel took care of her. She deliberated dancing again, but the memories from yesterday resurfaced, and she thought better of it. A run was her next choice, but it was too early in the day. Too many people would notice her.

Taking a nap seemed to be her best choice, so she started to head to her room. She wasn't very tired, but she had nothing else to do. Besides, she needed all the energy she could get. Tonight, she was going to kill Matthew.

The plan was simple; she was going to climb through his window from the roof, smash it, stab him, climb back up, run inside, and head to her room. His room was the farthest from anyone else's, so no one would hear the glass break. His security bracelet would alert the security of his death, but by that time, she'd be out of her bloodstained clothes and in bed. All she needed to do was call Damien to take care of the rooftop security cameras, and she'd be golden. Then she'd fake her own death and escape back to the Slums.

Matthew would be dead, her pesky feelings would be taken care of, and she'd be rich. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach and focused on the positives. She'd been doing this for years. What was one more victim compared to her already existing body count?

On her way to her room, she passed Matthew's office, which he hardly used, favouring the one he had at work. Curiosity bubbled inside of her. What did he have in there?  
  
She probably wouldn't find much, but she had nothing better to do. She opened the door as silently as she could, and stepped inside.

It was a small room. She flicked the light switch and found that the room was only illuminated by one hanging ceiling light. There were two filing cabinets in the corner, a computer on a desk, and a printer. A few pens and pieces of paper lay on the wooden surface of the desk, and the chair was made of black leather. There was no window.

She slowly closed the door and walked to the computer. To her disappointment, it was protected by a password, one she knew she couldn't crack, and one she wouldn't bother asking Damien to do for her. The printer was out of ink, and all the desk drawers held were pens and other office supplies.

Mari moved over to the filing cabinets. So far, she'd found exactly what she expected to; nothing. Matthew was an interesting guy, but only once he opened up to you. To everyone else, he was the most generic man impossible, especially when you looked at his work ethic. She had no idea how he had been elected.

She opened the top drawer. It was filled with files, which wasn't surprising. They were dated; a few of them were from the first month he'd been elected. All of them had work details written in them, discussions at panels long since forgotten.

Bored, she opened the drawer underneath it, which was identical to the first. Then she opened the last drawer, to the same result, and moved on to the second cabinet. The cycle repeated until she hit the bottom drawer, which was, to her excitement, locked.

"What are you hiding, Matt?" she whispered as she crouched, pulling the mandatory guard knife she kept in her pocket out and picking the lock. Anthony had taught her how to pick a lock with almost anything.

Then she was in, pulling the drawer open. It was filled with more files, but these were different. Instead of being sorted by date, they were sorted by name.

She pulled open the file labelled "David Moss" and opened it. Inside were three pictures, all of them including an orange-haired man and a brown-haired one, both of which she'd seen at Governor Sui's party. Two of them showed the men in romantic situations.

In the back of the file was a piece of paper that had only one sentence written on it. Mari read it.

_Governor Moss. Cheating on his wife with Ian Hecox._

Heart pounding, she pulled out another file; Sarah Whittle. She was met with a picture of Sarah kissing a man that was most definitely  _not_  her husband.

_Sarah Whittle. Cheating on husband with polis officer Tanner Risner, the real father of her son._

Realization washed over her. She'd always wondered why Sarah's son looked nothing like his "father." And the more she looked at the man in the photo, the more she saw Sarah's son.

She pulled out file after file, being met with the same result each time. Everything suddenly made sense. Why Matthew had been elected. How he'd kept his power. How he'd managed to get so many of his laws passed despite having his party being the minority on the panel.

He was a blackmailer.

Anyone else would've been disgusted, but Mari was impressed. Her life was one of crime, after all. This was nothing compared to what she'd done. And this; this was genius. She understood the tides of power in the world of the Elites. Matthew was a poor Suburban boy; he would've been buried alive. This was necessary.

She sat on the floor of his office for a long time, staring at the files she'd laid out in front of her, re-reading them and staring intently at the pictures. Time flew by without her noticing, and before she could put any thought into it, she heard the door to the apartment open.

Matthew was back. And it was far too late to get out of the office undetected. All she could do was sit there, listening as Matthew talked to Ariel, breathing erratic, hoping he wouldn't come in. Who knows what would happen if he caught her.

Too late, she realized that he'd see the light under the door. She lunged for the switch, but it was no use. The door swung open, and she found herself standing face-to-face with Matthew.

He looked at her, then at the floor, and his face paled. He quickly shut the door and turned to face her.

"Mari, I can explain," he started.

"Explain what?" she replied. crossing her arms. "I know what this is. I'm not an idiot."

There was a thick silence for a minute or so. Then Mari realized what was going on; he wasn't mad. He was scared.

"I don't care," she stated.

Matthew's mouth opened slightly. "What?"

"I don't care," she responded, leaning against the wall. "About the blackmailing. I really don't give a shit."

"You don't?" there was a layer of doubt in Matthew's tone.

"Nope," she replied, "I've seen far worse."

Then, her body moved without consulting her brain first, and she kicked off the wall and walked right up to him, snaking her arms around his neck. "In fact, I find it... impressive."

Matthew looked dumbstruck. "You do?"

"Mhm," Mari replied. "I do. Takes a lot of effort to get all of these photos and go after all those people. It's not the right thing to do, but then again, there's really no such thing as a clean politician, now, is there?"

"No," his voice was lower. Huskier. And he was staring at her with eyes burning with an emotion she knew all too well.

Her brain was screaming at her. Her nerves were on fire. But she didn't move away. Something kept her rooted to the ground, in front of him, staring at him. He looked incredibly handsome, half of his face concealed by a shadow, his eyes bright. 

And, before she could stop herself, before she could think, she was raising her head, and her lips were meeting his.

They kissed each other hungrily. Gosh, it had been so long. She hung to him like a lifeline. Their kiss deepened, and Mari found herself propped against his desk, her legs wrapped around his waist.

It was too late to stop. The dam had been opened, and there was no way to close it. Like a train speeding off a cliff; an unpreventable disaster.

They broke their kiss to give them enough time to sneak to his bedroom, where they picked up right where they'd left off. She pinned him against the wall, and he entwined his fingers through her hair.

Her shirt hit the floor first. Than his. Both of their pants joined them, before her bra went flying. Soon, they were both naked.

They found their way through the darkness to his bed. Mari shoved him, making him land back-first onto the mattress, before climbing on top of him, pinning him down with her hips.

She took a second to just look at him. He looked beautiful underneath her, his body already covered in a thin cover of sweat, staring at her with longing written clearly on his face. She would have kept him there forever, with that beautiful expression on his face, if she didn't need him just as much.

Luckily, he had a condom in his bedside drawer. She grabbed it and put it on him, before finally inserting him into her.

His hips bucked up to meet her as she started to ride him. It took a little while for them to find a good rhythm, but then they did, and  _God_  did it feel good. Her hand clasped onto the headboard for support as she rested the other one on his chest. His hands flew to her hips.

She didn't know how long it lasted. It could have been minutes or hours. Time seemed to slip away. All she could focus on was him; the way he smelled, the way he looked, the way he  _felt._  He was intoxicating, and she didn't care.

Afterward, she nuzzled her face into his neck, and he wrapped his arm around her. Neither of them thought about the possibility of them getting caught, of the wife sleeping right down the hall. They were too engrossed in each other.

Back in the Slums, Damien and Boze sat on their beds, waiting for a call that would never come.


	26. Mari

It was sunrise when Mari awoke the next morning, finding herself still securely wrapped in Matthew's arms.

She looked down at him. Yesterday, she would've been appalled. She would've grabbed her clothes, quickly gotten dressed, and ran from the room like it was on fire. She would've felt disgusted with herself.

A small part of her did feel all of those things. But things had changed from yesterday, and the overwhelming part of her made her stay right where she was, in the arms of the man she loved.

She'd been fighting a losing battle, and she'd finally accepted defeat. There was no point anymore. And now that she'd had a taste of this, of him, she was hooked. There was no way she would ever be able to give up Matthew now.

As she traced her fingers over his chest, she thought about killing him. It would be easy. A knife was sitting in her pants on the floor. She could grab it and stab him, before pushing his body out the window. There wouldn't even be any bloodstained clothes she'd have to clean.

But that would never happen. She knew that. For if she killed Matthew, she'd kill a part of herself. One she didn't want to live without. One she didn't know if she could. The more she stared at his peaceful face as he slept, the more that was cemented in her mind.

She didn't know what she'd tell Damien and Boze. Heck, she didn't even know if she would ever see them again. She missed them both incredibly, but she couldn't see a way for her to visit them and return back to the Elite District. And there was no way she would be able to leave Matthew behind.

God, how would anything work now? Mari didn't know how their relationship would work now. Would they sneak around behind Courtney's back? Set up certain days? Or would they pretend that nothing ever happened between them?

She shuddered at the thought. There was no way she'd be able to bring herself do that, no matter how horrible the alternative was. It was far too late for that.

Matthew shifted under her, and she nestled her head back into his neck, breathing him in as she tried to dispell her thoughts from her mind. He was here now. She might as well enjoy it.

A few minutes later, she felt Matthew's breathing become irregular under her fingertips, and knew he was awake. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her.

"Hey," she smiled, stretching. She felt his eyes roam down her body, and she couldn't blame him. She'd had her fair share of admiring women's bodies in the morning.

"Hey," Matthew responded. There was a blank look in his eyes, like he wasn't fully awake yet.

Mari curled back up next to him. "How was your sleep?"

"Good," he replied. "You?"

"How could it have been bad?" she asked. It was a cheesy thing to say, but she was sure he wouldn't mind.

Matthew smiled and tightened his arm around her, resting his head on top of her's. They stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the closeness between them. In all of her one-night stands, Mari had never experienced anything like this before; this want never to leave, to stay in the other person's arms forever.

"What are we?" Matthew asked, breaking the silence. Mari almost wished that he hadn't spoken at all.

"What do you mean?" she replied, knowing full well what he meant but wanting him to say it himself.

"Us," he replied. "Our relationship. This."

There was a brief silence. Mari didn't know how to respond, for she didn't have the answer.

"I don't know," she eventually responded truthfully. "I honestly have no idea."

Matthew sighed. "Me neither."

They were treading through water neither of them had ever swum through before. The only romantic relationship Mari had ever had, one that had any meaning, was with Anthony, and the circumstances between the two were so different that whatever she had with Matthew wasn't even on the same playing field.

"We don't have to figure that out right now," Mari pointed out. "We have all the time in the world."

She wasn't so sure if they did, but he didn't need to know that. Besides, the words were comforting.

"Yeah," Matthew agreed. "We do."

She kissed his forehead and placed her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, strong and regular.

After a few minutes, Matthew sat up suddenly. "What time is it?"

Mari's eyes widened as she realized what he was worried about. "Shit."

They both glanced over at his alarm clock. It was 8:30; he only had thirty minutes if he wanted to get to work on time, including the drive. They exchanged a worried glance before lunging for their clothes.

It took awhile. Last night, they hadn't given much thought to where their clothes landed, so the two of them had to race around the room to collect them. It took them a solid three minutes to get dressed.

Matthew rushed out of the room, leaving her behind. Mari was in a bad spot; breakfast would be eaten soon, if it hadn't been already, and she'd be expected there. Ariel would be in the kitchen already. If they checked her room and noticed that she was missing, they'd either find her or put on a manhunt; neither of which would be good. So she only had one choice; exit now and hope Courtney already wasn't in the room.

She heard the door shut as Matthew rushed outside, and decided now would be as good as time as any. She rushed to the door, threw it open, and shut it behind her, before turning to face the kitchen.

Ariel and Kelsey were staring at her, shock written on their faces. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened.

"Uh, hi," she said awkwardly. They just gaped at her. 

Then, of course, that was when Courtney decided to come in, wearing a bathrobe, heavy bags under her eyes.

A heavy silence fell over the room. You could probably hear a pin drop. Mari's heart was beating a mile a minute as Courtney looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. Ariel and Kelsey kept glancing between the two of them, clutching their kitchen appliances like they were expecting that they'd have to break up a fight.

"Mari?" Courtney asked. Her face was expressionless. Mari didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Yeah?" she responded, every instinct in her body telling her to flee. But all that would accomplish would be incriminating her even further, so she kept herself planted in place, no matter how much Courtney's eyes felt like they were burning into her.

"Why are you wearing the same shirt as yesterday?" Courtney asked, leaning against the wall, curling her fingers around the corner.

Mari gulped. "Am I? Didn't notice."

More silence. Mari felt the urge to scream.

"Go brush your hair," Courtney replied, before sitting down at the kitchen table, grabbing her coffee and draining it. Ariel shot Mari a panicked glance, which did not help Mari's nerves in the slightest.

It was at that moment that Mari knew she was caught. She was standing right in front of Matthew's room, after all, and she looked like she's just crawled out of bed; which she had, in a way. That demand cemented the fact in her brain. There was no way that Courtney didn't know what had happened.

The only question was what she would do about it.

"Of course," Mari replied, deciding that she should do as little to piss Courtney of as possible. She'd have to tread lightly around her. Because if Courtney decided to tell the polis, she'd be executed within a day, and Matthew's reputation would be ruined forever. It was a huge crime to sleep with a servant. If you did, people would consider you dirty. To them, sleeping with someone from the Slums was like sleeping with an animal. "I'll change my shirt too."

"Please do," Courtney responded, her voice steady, as if they were discussing the weather.

With one look into her cold green eyes, Mari took off towards her room, dreading what she'd have to tell Matthew when he came back.


	27. Matthew

He got home late that night, exhausted. Mari asked him if he wanted to play chess, but he declined; there was no way in Hell he had enough energy to play, let alone partake in the essential conversation they had to have at some point. He wanted to postpone that for as long as possible.

So he'd grabbed a bite to eat and climbed into bed. It hadn't taken him very long to fall asleep; ten minutes, top. He drifted off with Mari's face in his mind.

• • •

He awoke suddenly three hours later.

It was 3:56, which was unusual. He was a light sleeper, but his walls were mostly soundproof. He rarely woke up before his alarm.

Quickly, he glanced around his room, his heart pounding. All of his instincts were telling him to run. His nerves were on fire. Everything in his body was telling him he was in danger, and he didn't know why. As far as he could tell, he was alone in his room, besides for the wind coming through his window, making his curtains flutter and alighting the room with faint moonlight.

By the time he realized that he hadn't opened that window for months, it was too late.

Without warning, Matthew felt an arm snake around his neck and pull him up, holding him close to their chest, which could instantly tell was a man's. He could still breath, but with difficulty, and when he tried to scream, he found that he couldn't speak. Briefly, he tried to struggle, but it became very clear, very fast that there was no way he could escape. His attacker was far stronger than he was. He doubted that even Mari could wrestle out of his grip.

Suddenly, the lights flashed on, blinding him for a few seconds. When his eyes finally adjusted, he was met with a very unpleasant sight, one that shocked him to his core. He could barely believe his eyes.

Standing at the foot of his bed, a knife grasped in her hand so tightly that her knuckles were white, her hair a mess with a crazy look in her eye, was his wife.

Matthew's breath caught in his throat. He stared at Courtney in shock. She stared right back, and he could hear her breaths, hard and fast.

"Courtney?" his voice was weak. He didn't know if it was the sight of her, his constricted airflow, or the sheer shock of the situation, but he felt lightheaded. Maybe it was a combination of all three.

"Matthew," she grimaced as if it hurt to say his name. "Bet you weren't expecting this."

He didn't know how to respond. She was right, of course. There was no way he could have.

"Do it, Courtney," the man holding him urged. In any other situation, Matthew would've recognized his voice easily; it was one he had spent many hours listening to. But he was too disorientated to at the moment, and the man had him in a position where he couldn't look up. "We don't have much time."  
  
"Not yet," Courtney responded. "I have a few things I want to say to him first."

She walked around the bed to his side, so close that she could touch him. Matthew stared at her with fear in his eyes.

He had known that Courtney was unhappy; it was obvious. And he'd known that she didn't love him, or even like him. But he'd always assumed that she was neutral about him, feeling no hatred or love towards him. He'd never thought that she hated him enough to want to kill him.

Obviously, he had been wrong.

"Matthew," she sounded like a madwoman. Her voice shook, as did her hand. "I know you're shocked. I know that this wasn't what you were expecting. I bet that you thought it was one of the people you were blackmailing who killed you, didn't you? Someone you'd caught in bed with a person other than their spouse or a servant, or some other crime that would've ruined them forever?"

Matthew tried to talk, but all that came out was a squeak, like he'd inhaled helium. Courtney laughed at his attempt.

"Yeah, I knew about that," she shouted. For once in his life, he regretted having such thick walls. If he didn't, Mari would've heard her and would be on her way by now. But there would be no one to save him now. "I know  _everything_  about you, Matthew."

He clawed at the man's arm until he drew blood, but all that gained him was a tighter squeeze against his neck. He could barely breathe now, and had to fight for every breath.

"I know about your past," Courtney grinned. "All about how you were abused and treated like nothing. How hard that must have been for you, huh? And I know that you have an appointment with a therapist. And I know that you've talked about it with  _her._ "

She spat out the "her" like it was poison. "Seemed like you'd talk about it with everyone before me. Your own  _wife._ "

There was a tear in her eye now. "Not that that was a surprise. You never talk to me. Not about the weather, not about politics, not about how my day went. You always act like I'm not even in the room."

"I tried so, so hard, you know," she sniffed. "In the beginning. I wanted us to be something, Matthew. Not necessarily lovers. I could deal with that. But I wanted us to be friends at least. But no, you always ignored me, or gave me one-word answers, just because I wasn't your intellectual equal. I'm not  _stupid,_  you know, but you sure had a blast making me feel like one. Like I was worthless. All because I couldn't beat you in a game of chess.

"Because that's what it boils down to with you, doesn't it? Those who can keep up with you are let in, and those who can't aren't. The only friend you have, Joven, you only keep around because he's useful to you. And you're so, so lonely because of it, but it's never occurred to you to just let other people in, has it? For a boy from the Suburbs, you sure do like to feel superior.

"But then  _she_ came along," Courtney shook her head. "All smart and strong and perfect. A girl from the Slums who  _understood_  what it was like to  _struggle._  Your dream girl."

"Yeah, I know about you two," Courtney grinned. "But I know a lot more about her than you do, Matthew."

"I don't hate you, exactly, no matter how much you've hurt me. I don't like you, but I don't want to kill you. I just didn't have a choice," she sighed. "You know how divorced people are treated. I'd be a social outcast.

"But I couldn't kill you myself. It would be too risky. And I didn't know if I would be able to bring myself to do it. But I knew that if I wanted to be with the man I truly loved, I needed you out of the picture. So I had to find an alternative."

 _The man I truly loved._ So she had been cheating on him. The information didn't bother him too much. He knew that she was going to eventually. Humans need affection, and he hadn't been giving her any. She had no choice but to get it from someone else.

"So I sent him down to the Slums, to find an assassin," she explained. "It wasn't too hard to find one. There are plenty down there. But we needed to find one that was good; killing you would be no easy task, after all. We needed a pro.

"It took a while before we found one. We gave them all a warm-up job, to see if they were capable, and they all failed. Finally, after eleven tries, we found her. She killed Keith Leak Jr. within three days, with incredible efficiency. No one even saw her flee. Instantly, we knew she was the one.

"And she made an attempt on your life a week later. I saw you running over the rooftops that night, fully expecting her to kill you. But you somehow avoided her and escaped with your life. To this day, I wonder how you managed to do that.

"Then came the poisoning, which you also survived. At that point, we were wondering if we should hire someone else, but we knew that she was our best bet. Then we started debating if we should help her. I could get her here easily, after all.

But then, like fate, she dropped into my life. I thought it was a sign that she was going to complete her mission soon. That it was a gift from the Gods."

Matthew's face paled as realization washed over him. There was only one woman Courtney could be talking about. As much as he didn't want to believe it, there was no other explanation.

"Mari," he squeaked, barely audibly.

Courtney smiled. "Do you really think that I would let a random servant into my home?"

Air whooshed out of his lungs like he'd been punched. His eyes were wide. He felt like his world was caving in on him.

Clear as day, he could picture it. The hooded figure that had attacked him all that time ago, standing on a rooftop, wind rustling through their clothes. They lifted their head and pulled back their hood, letting their brown hair blow behind them. He found himself staring face-to-face with the beautiful face of the woman he loved. The woman that had tried to kill him.

Courtney laughed at his expression. "I know that it must be painful for you, Matthew. To know that someone you loved betrayed you. Don't worry. I'll put you out of your misery."

"Now?" the man asked. Matthew had been shocked back to reality enough to recognize his voice by now.

It was Shayne Topp. His wife had been cheating on him with his greatest political rival. And now, they were going to kill him together. The thought chilled him to his bones.

"Now," Courtney agreed, and she took a step closer, raising her knife. Matthew started thrashing wildly against Shayne's grip, but it was no use. There was no escape.

Suddenly, he realized that he could have prevented this. If only he'd been nicer to his wife. If only he'd stopped caring about himself. All he would've had to do was show Courtney some kindness, some respect. But he hadn't.

This was all his fault.

Courtney pressed her knife to his chest, right under the rib that would give her easy access to his heart. "Don't worry, Matthew. After I kill you, I'm going to make sure that your little  _whore_  is executed. You two will see each other again soon."

She raised her knife, and Matthew shut his eyes, ready for the blow. He took a final breath.

Then Courtney screamed.

His eyes flashed open just as Shayne's grip on his neck loosened. He felt a warm liquid drip onto his head, and looked up to see Shayne, a knife through his left eye and blood streaming down his face. He was too shocked to scream.

Shayne's body slumped, and Matthew pushed it off him and onto the floor, scrambling away as fast as he could, breathing heavily. When he looked down at himself, he noticed that he was covered in Shayne's blood. He felt like puking.

Courtney was staring at Shayne's corpse in horror. She'd dropped her knife and brought her hands to her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks. As Matthew watched, a blade protruded from her forehead, and she crumpled. Blood pooled from her head onto the wooden floor, joining the puddle of Shayne's that was already there.

He wrenched his gaze from her body to stare at his saviour. Standing in his doorway, a knife in hand, was Mari.


	28. Mari

She hadn't been able to sleep that night.

The encounter she'd had with Courtney had been too nerve-racking. She kept tossing and turning, wondering what her employer would do to her, and what it would mean for her and Matthew's relationship. Eventually, she gave up and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

That was when she noticed that Matthew's light was on. Seeing as she knew how tired he was that night, she decided to investigate and put her ear to the door. Then she heard Courtney, clear as day, saying that she would kill him. 

It had taken seconds before her instincts had kicked in. She rushed to the kitchen, grabbed three knives (she didn't know how many assailants there were and wanted to be safe) and threw open the door. A quick assessment of the situation had told her that the man was the biggest threat, as he was holding Matthew down, so she killed him first, and then Courtney. She'd barely even had to think about it.

And now she was here, standing in Matthew's doorway, a knife in hand, her heart racing.

Matthew looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He was on his hands and knees on the bed, staring at Courtney's body, visibly shaking. She could hear his frantic breaths from across the room.

Then he threw up. Mari looked away, her mind racing. She recognized the dead man. He was the one who had hired her, the one she'd run into on the stairs. And, most likely, the one who Courtney had been cheating on Matthew with.

Which meant the two of them were in cohorts. They'd probably hired her together, and Courtney would know everything. And Mari already knew that she had been talking to Matthew before she arrived. What had she told him?

Matthew had curled up in a fetal position now, tears streaming down his cheeks, his sobs racking his body. Mari wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how to. Death had become so normalized to her that she'd forgotten the shock of seeing a dead body by now. She might as well have killed a bug, for all her empathy cared.

After a few minutes, Matthew brought his blood-red eyes up to her's. 

"It was you," his voice was weak, and cracked on the last word. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Mari almost dropped her knife. Guilt and panic washed over her. Words bubbled in her throat, but she couldn't bring herself to say any of them, to speak. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. He was never supposed to find out. In all the futures she'd imagined for them, even the bad ones, she'd never let herself envision this. He was always in the dark about the real reason she came into his life. She wasn't prepared for this.

"You're the one they hired," he managed to get up on his knees, "to kill me."

Her voice was as faint as a whisper. "Yes."

Matthew smiled joylessly and stared into her eyes before breathing out through his nose and dropping his head into his hands. He started breathing heavily like he wasn't sure if he should cry or scream.

They stood like that for a few minutes, soundlessly. Mari clutched onto the knife like her life depended on it. She didn't know what to say. Every word that came to mind died on her lips.

Finally, Matthew brought his head out of his hands to look at her. His voice sounded like a croak. "Go."

"What?" the word didn't settle in her head.

"Go," he repeated demandingly. "Go back to the Slums."

She stepped backwards, his words shocking her. He wanted her to leave? To go back?

That was the last thing she wanted. She didn't want to leave him. Oh, God, did she want to stay right where she was. She wanted to figure something out, no matter how much time it would take. If going home meant leaving him behind, then she never wanted to return.

"Go!" he screamed. "Get the  _fuck_  out of my life!"

He was shaking, though she didn't know if it was from grief, shock, or anger. Maybe all three.

What she did know, though, was that he was serious. She could see it in his eyes. He truly wanted her gone. And there was nothing she could do about it.

"If that's what you want," she responded, managing to stop herself from crying. She didn't wait for a response before she exited the room. She probably wouldn't have gotten one.

After she closed the door, she rushed to the phone and dialled in Damien's number. He picked up instantly.

"Is it time?" he asked, sounding excited. "I already have everything ready. Just give me the sig-"

"No, Damien," her voice cracked, and she took a second to collect herself. "It's never going to be time. I need to come home. Now."

He knew her well enough to know not to ask any further questions. When he responded, he sounded sombre. "Alright. I'll send Boze to the usual spot."

"Thank you," she replied. Then she hung up, and leaned on the wall for a few seconds. She was already out of breath.

"Mari?" Ariel must've heard her on the phone. She was standing in the doorway of her room. Mari noticed the shadowy figure of Ned behind her. "What's going on?"

"I can't talk right now," Mari did not have time for her questions. "Goodbye."

Ariel didn't have a chance to respond before she took off, running to the door as fast as her legs would carry her, throwing open the door. She ran to the stairs instantly, too impatient to wait for the elevator. She wanted to get out as fast as she could.

It didn't take her long to get out of the apartment complex and onto the streets. Thankfully, they were next to deserted; it was early, after all. The only thing lighting her way were the giant screens on the buildings, showing ads for products she neither wanted or needed. She barely paid them any attention as she ran past them.

She'd been walking around with Courtney often enough to know the layout of the city. As she ran past the familiar buildings, she barely thought about the fact that she'd never see them again, never be able to touch the luxurious items on their shelves that she could never dream of buying, even with the money she would've gotten from killing Matthew. She tried not to think at all.

Because she knew that if she did, she would break into tears right in the street and collapse. She didn't know if she would be able to bring herself back to her feet if she did. And servants weren't legally allowed outside after twelve. The last thing she needed right now was to get caught.

It felt like minutes before she was out of the city. Her legs burned and her throat felt like it was on fire, making it hurt to breathe. She was thankful for the distraction. 

Outside of the city were fields of grass, stretching as far as the eye could see. She'd seen it once, on her way to the orphanage with Courtney, which had only been a few days ago but felt like months. She remembered their conversation like it was yesterday.

A thought almost stopped her in her tracks. Courtney. Oh God,  _Courtney._ She'd killed Courtney!

In the heat of the situation, Mari had acted without thinking. But now that she had time to reflect, guilt ate up at her. Courtney had been a woman who was depressed and trapped, doomed to a cycle of misery and incompleteness that she would never be able to tear herself free from. She didn't blame her for wanting her husband dead. Mari probably would've done the same thing if she were her.

And now she was dead, at her hands. Mari felt like a monster.

She tried to shove that thought from her mind and kept running, trying to focus on the pain running up her legs. The Elite District was the smallest one in the city, so it didn't take her long before she was at the short wall that divided the two. It wasn't guarded and was made of stone, so it was easy for her to hop over it.

Waiting for her on the road, resting against their motorcycle, was Boze. She had her helmet off and looked incredibly happy to see her. Mari noticed that her hair was longer than it had been the last time she'd seen her, though if it happened naturally or through extensions, she couldn't tell you.

As soon as she got close enough, Boze opened her arms to give her a hug, which Mari accepted. She clung to Boze tightly, burying her face in her shoulder. Boze patted her on the back.

"I've missed you, Mar," Boze sighed, running her hands through her hair comfortingly.

"I've missed you too," Mari replied, pulling away. They couldn't waste any more time. "We need to go."

Boze nodded and climbed onto her motorcycle, starting the engine. Mari hopped on behind her, throwing her arms around her waist, not bothering to put on a helmet. The second she was securely on, Boze tore down the street.

The drive was a familiar one, though Boze was going twice as fast as she normally did. Mari realized that she hadn't told Damien what was wrong, exactly, on the phone. They probably thought that she was in extreme danger. Mari was surprised that Boze had even stopped to give her a hug.

Mari tried to focus on the houses, but they blurred in front of her. None of them had their lights on, thankfully. Mari didn't know how they could possibly explain their way out of this.

Then they were approaching the wall. Boze drove up to the security guard. They were greeted with the familiar sight of Flitz's face. He took one look at them at pressed the button on his desk, opening the gate for them. Boze said a quick "thank you" before the two women sped into the Slums.

She'd been away so long that the Slums seemed almost alien to her. Compared to the pristine buildings of the Elite District, the ones in the Slums looked even more run down and shabby than usual. The people looked dirtier and deadlier. There were no make-up clad faces or pristine dresses here. Only the hard-worn outfits and features of the unfortunate.

And yet, the sight was familiar. Comforting. For she'd never truly gotten used to the Elite District. These people were her people, these buildings her buildings. That was the way it had always been and always would be. It would never change.

 _I never would've been happy there,_  Mari realized, the thought striking her like a bolt of lightning,  _even with him._

The thought didn't make the pain of leaving him or the sting of his words any less painful, however. She thought of the last time she'd seen him and winced. He might as well have hit her.

Boze slowed down a bit, knowing that whatever danger she had been in wouldn't follow her now. Still, they reached the house in almost no time at all. The sight of its boarded-up windows and peeling paint was almost welcoming.

They pulled into the garage and walked into the house. Damien was waiting for them in the living room, having no doubt heard them enter. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but took one look at Mari's appearance and decided to stay quiet, instead opening his arms for a hug, just like Boze had done.

And it was there, in the arms of one of her best friends, back in the safety of her own home, that Mari finally let herself cry.


	29. Matthew

As he watched her go, he felt like he couldn't move. His throat was dry, and the smell of blood was so intense it left a metallic taste on his mouth. He couldn't stop shaking.

He wanted to cry, but no tears would come. It was if he'd run out of them. He couldn't stop shaking, and he felt the desire to scream.

The door slammed from the living room, and he knew that she was gone, that he'd never see her again. His mind was too muddled to even begin to doubt his decision. All he could focus on was the corpse of his wife, and how  _betrayed_  he felt. Courtney might as well have stabbed him, for all the pain he was feeling.

Eventually, he managed to climb off his bed, though he had to lean against the wall for support. He needed to get out of these clothes. The wetness of Shayne's blood against his skin was almost enough to make him throw up all over again.

He pulled open his drawer and pulled out a shirt, underwear, and jeans. He quickly got dressed, wanting to get out of the room as soon as possible. There was still blood on his skin, but there was no way to get that off without taking a shower, so he didn't even try. He didn't even think about how incriminating his actions would look to anyone else. He wasn't thinking at all.

Someone screamed from behind him. Ariel was standing in his doorway, her hand on her mouth, looking panicked. She'd dropped a flashlight on the floor, and it rolled into the pool of blood on the floor, which had grown so massive with the combined blood of the two victims that you could barely avoid stepping in it.

Matthew didn't know how to begin to deal with her, to answer her questions. He wasn't so sure if he was even able to. Before she even found the words to speak, he pushed past her and staggered into the living room, collapsing on the couch.

Ned had already been at his room as if he had gone there with Ariel. Eugene and Kelsey came running down the hall, probably hearing Ariel's scream. Matthew barely registered them.

His four remaining servants started bustling around, talking about what to do. At some point, one of them pushed him, trying to get some sort of response from him. It barely registered in his brain. All he could hear was the blood pumping steadily in his ears, and his vision blurred as if he was looking through tears, which, for all he knew, he might have been. All of his senses felt numb.

Then something that felt like cold water hit his face, shocking him back to reality. Kelsey was standing over him with an empty cup in her hands.

"What the  _fuck_  happened in there?" she demanded, breathing heavily. He couldn't begin to imagine how confused the four of them must be.

He didn't know how to explain. Every time he tried to speak, his voice faltered. Kelsey stared at him for a few minutes expectantly before giving up and kicking the couch in anger.

Ariel was crying, while Ned seemed to be consulting her. Eugene was pacing around in the area between the T.V and the couch, where he and Mari had danced what felt like an eternity ago.

Mari. Mari. Mari. Her face implanted itself in his brain, and he couldn't shake it away. A burst of longing exploded in his chest. Longing to have her arms around him, to have her whisper sweet nothings in his ear, to make him feel like everything was going to be alright, that he was fine, even if it was as far from the truth as they could get.

But she was gone. He had ordered her to leave, in a burst of anger. Seeing her face then, after feeling the bite of betrayal, had made him seethe with rage. But now, now that he had his wits and was actually thinking about what her being gone actually meant...

What had he done? Oh God, what had he done?

Impatient, Kelsey grabbed his arm and pulled it up to her face level. In the intensity of the situation, she'd completely forgotten about her position in the household, not that she'd ever held it very close to her in the first place. Before Matthew realized what she was doing, before he could yank his arm away, she twisted his security bracelet and slammed her thumb down on the panic button.

There was no hacker to turn it off now. The bracelet started blinking red, and an alarm started blaring from it. It was only a matter of minutes before the polis arrived.

It was then that Matthew realized what position he was in. He was the only one that anyone had seen in the room with Courtney and Shayne. And what had been his first reaction? To change his blood-stained clothes. All evidence pointed to him.

Fuck. Desperately, he tried to think of a way to make an excuse, to talk his way out of this. But his mind was still half-numb with shock, and he couldn't think of a way out without mentioning Mari. And there was no way he could explain an assassin actively  _saving_  their target without bringing up their relationship, which was a crime all in itself.

No amount of blackmail would be able to get him out of this. Matthew was trapped.

The polis arrived quickly. There was no bigger concern than the safety of a Governor, so it was an entire SWAT team that flooded through his door. They all looked quite confused when they saw him, perfectly safe on his couch. That is until they saw the blood on his clothes, the spots that had bled through from his skin.

Two rushed forward to check on him, but Kelsey stopped them in their tracks. There was a fire burning in her eyes by now, and despite wearing armour and being armed with swords, they looked a little bit intimidated by the sight of her. "He's fine, you idiots! Check that room!"

She pointed at Matthew's room. The SWAT team members were stunned enough, not just by her but by the entire situation, to do what she said immediately. The second the first one entered the room, the entire atmosphere of the situation changed.

The polis officer who was obviously in charge, a tall woman who had her body so well concealed with her armour and helmet that one could easily mistake her for a man, walked over to him. "Governor Sohinki, we're going to need to take you in for questioning. Your servants as well."

Matthew nodded. He'd been expecting that. She didn't say anything about Courtney; everyone knew where she was.

He called Ariel, Eugene, and Ned over to him. Before they could follow the woman and a few members of her team out, one of the other SWAT members spoke up. "Sergent, isn't there another servant in the household?"

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to face Matthew. "Governor Sohinki, where are the whereabouts of Mrs. Sohinki's bodyguard?"  
  
She didn't say Mari's name. Matthew wondered if the polis officer even knew it.

"I laid her off," Matthew replied, thinking fast. "Didn't want to keep paying for her. Thought Cour-Courtney would be safer with Eugene. We were going to put the official paperwork in tomorrow. She's already in the Slums."

It was a lie, of course, and his servants knew it. Thankfully, none of them spoke up.

The polis officer didn't look convinced. "Alright. Follow me."  
  
They did. She took them down the stairs and to a polis car, which was parked on the side of the road, along with ten others. Matthew and his bodyguards got in one with the woman, while Ariel and Kelsey got in a second one with another polis officer. The other SWAT members who had followed them out climbed into another one.

As they drove, they passed a few more polis cars speeding towards his apartment. The situation had turned from governor protection to crime scene, after all. They needed an entirely different group of people to deal with it now.

Matthew didn't say a word the entire ride. There was nothing to say. In a way, he was thankful for the numbness of his mind, because, without it, he would probably be on the verge of a panic attack. 

They arrived at the polis station quickly. The woman led him through the building and straight to an interrogation room, before leaving him alone. She didn't handcuff him to the table like a criminal, but she might as well have, for how trapped Matthew felt.

As he waited, he thought of Mari. The way her hair fell over her shoulders, how her smile lit up the room, her strength, the way her skin felt under his. His breath hitched when he thought of the fact that he'd never see her again, even if he got out of this alive. Why was he such an idiot? 

It had taken him forever to find someone he truly, actually loved, and less than a day after realizing that they could have a future together, he had pushed her way. Maybe he'd done her a favour, in a way. Mari deserved someone far better than him. He deserved to be alone.

The door opened, and a polis officer walked in. Matthew recognized him from the hospital back when the assassi- Mari had first attacked him. It was Officer Bereta, looking identical to the last time he'd seen him. 

"Hello, Governor Sohinki," he smiled, sitting down across from Matthew and folding his hands on the table. "I have a few questions for you."

Matthew debated waiting until he had a lawyer with him, but decided it was no use. Even the most skilled lawyer wouldn't be able to get him out of this one.

"So, Matthew, what exactly happened in there?" he asked. His tone was light, like they were having a normal conversation, but Matthew wasn't fooled. He knew how police interrogation techniques worked. His father had loved to use them to interrogate him.

"They attacked me," Matthew didn't preplan his story. He'd make it up as he went along.

"Who did?" Officer Bereta asked. A useless question for the two of them, but it would be good for the courtroom.

"Governor Shayne Topp, and- and Courtney Miller," Matthew tried to collect himself. "They were together. Romantically. They wanted me out of the picture so they could be together."  
  
"And how do you know that, Governor?" Officer Bereta asked suspiciously.

"She told me," Matthew replied. "Before she tried to kill me. She told me."

"And how did you stop her?" Officer Bereta asked. "From killing you?"

Matthew was silent for a second, thinking of a response. "Shayne was holding me. When she came at me with the knife, I managed to slip out of his grip and grab her knife. I stabbed her with it. Shayne had a knife of his own, and I used that to kill him."  
  
"Then, tell me, Matthew," Officer Bereta leaned forwards. "How was Courtney stabbed through the back of her head?"

Shit. He hadn't thought of that. Of course someone already took a picture of the bodies. It was probably why it had taken so long for Officer Bereta to come in; he had been waiting for them.

Matthew didn't have an answer. Officer Bereta nodded and stood up, exiting the room, leaving Matthew alone with his thoughts.

He was utterly screwed now. The hole was dug, and he'd jumped in it. The only question remaining was how much he would continue to dig.

A few minutes later, Officer Bereta returned with another polis officer, a young man Matthew recognized as Tanner Risner. There was a pair of handcuffs in the mustached man's hands.

"Governor Sohinki," Officer Bereta announced. "You're under arrest for the murders of Shayne Topp and Courtney Miller."


	30. Chapter 30

This time, they do handcuff him to the table.

Matthew doesn't know completely why he's here. The polis officer who had dragged him out of his cell didn't answer any of his questions before dropping him off here. All he could do was wait, tapping his foot on the ground and playing with the metal locked around his wrists.

The last two days had been incredibly boring. He'd been confined to a small holding cell in the polis station, left alone to his thoughts. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing Courtney's lifeless eyes, of Mari's face when he told her to leave. They haunted him. Matthew was glad for the distraction.

After a few minutes of waiting, the door creaked open. When Matthew saw who it was, he somehow wasn't surprised. It was quite on brand with them to show up whenever he was already down.

Noah walked in, wearing a simple black suit, holding a briefcase. He sat across from him, straightening his jacket as he did.

The two men stared at each other for a few seconds, before Matthew spoke. "So."

"So," Noah replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are you here?" Matthew asked, his exhaustion creeping into his voice. He'd barely gotten any sleep recently.

"I am here," Noah explained, "because I am your lawyer."

"What?" Matthew asked, shocked. 

"You heard me," Noah replied. "Trust me; there weren't many volunteers. I'm the best you have."

"I didn't ask for a lawyer," Matthew responded. He had been planning on pleading guilty. Even if he somehow got out of this case without jail time, his political career had ended with Courtney's heartbeat. And with Mari gone and probably hating him, there was really nothing left for him anymore. Noah was just wasting both of their time.

"Which is why I decided to become your's," Noah replied, staring Matthew in the eye. "Without me, they'd put you in the chair. I'm not letting that happen."  
  
"I don't see how you could stop that," Matthew sighed. "There's no way I'm getting out of this, Noah. There's no point. I might as well have stabbed Courtney. The outcome would've been the same."

"It's not just that anymore," Noah stated.

Matthew squinted. "What?"

"When the polis searched your apartment for evidence, they found some rather... incriminating documents in your office," Noah explained. "Documents and pictures. I think you know what I'm talking about."

Matthew leaned back in his chair. He did, of course. The blackmail. Somehow, the situation had gotten even worse for him. "Has it been released to the public?"

"All of it," Noah replied. "Its sent everyone into an uproar. Spouses are filing for divorce, servants are being executed, people are getting arrested... you've done the polis a favour, in that regard, but it doesn't change the fact that blackmailing is a serious offence."

Matthew sighed. "So you came here to tell me I'm even more fucked than before. Great. That's  _really_  helpful."

"Not necessarily," Noah pointed out.

Matthew chuckled. "Listen, Noah; I know you're smart. But there's no way you can get me out of this. I dug this hole. Let me get buried in it."

"Listen," Noah stated. "Yeah, there's no way you're getting out of this scot-free. That's obvious. My goal isn't to free you; it's to get you out of the chair."

"So what?" Matthew asked. "I can spend my life in jail, slowly rotting away as people I've blackmailed try to kill me? That sounds  _so_  much better. What a great alternative."

"Not that, either," Noah said plainly.

"There aren't any other options," Matthew replied. "That's all I have."

"No," Noah responded. "It isn't."

"Pray tell me, Grossman, what's this magical third option?" Matthew asked. "Are you going to have all your twenty-year-old hippies swarm the jail and break me out."

"There is another option, Matthew," Noah explained. "Banishment."

His words hung in the air. Matthew gaped at him, barely processing what he said. It seemed ludicrous. Impossible.

"No way," Matthew shook his head. "The charges against me are too great. There's no way I could get away with that."

"Well, the murder charge would be hard to prove," Noah replied. "The polis still can't figure out how you managed to stab Courtney in the back of the head inside the room. The crown isn't confident that they'd be able to land you in jail. And banishment is a crime punishable by banishment."

"So?" Matthew asked. "There's plenty of evidence against me as that is. They could still prosecute me easily."

"Not if I pray on that insecurity," Noah replied. "People know how convincing I am. With me on your side, they'd start feeling the pressure. It won't be very hard for me to work out a plea deal with the crown. That is, of course, if you want me too."

Matthew didn't have to think about it for too long. On the one hand, he had either death by electric chair or a lifetime in jail. On the other, he had banishment to the Slums, where he could still live relatively freely... and possibly see Mari again.

"Of course I do," Matthew replied almost immediately. "Let's hope you're as good as you think you are, Grossman."

• • •

There was a sea of press outside the courtroom. As Matthew and Noah walked up the steps side-by-side, a few bodyguards surrounding them, microphone after microphone and camera after camera were shoved in their faces. So many of them were screaming out questions that Matthew wouldn't have been able to make out their words even if he had been listening. Everyone wanted to get a shot of the disgraced governor.

Eventually, they shoved their way through the sea of people and made their way into the courtroom. It was silent there, the only press a few cameramen.

The courtroom was the fanciest one in the country, used only for the biggest cases; which his certainly was. The ceiling was high and pointed, made of bulletproof glass. The walls were made of wood, as was the floor. There were rows upon rows of people in the gallery, all of them watching as they walked past. Matthew spotted Olivia amongst them, her face stern.

He sat down at the accused table, along with Noah. The crown lawyers were already in their place. Raised high above everyone was the bench, where the judge would soon sit.

As soon as everyone was sitting, the plaintiff cleared his throat. "All rise for Judge Betty."

Judge Betty was the most famous judge in the country. He was known for a variety of historical cases, from theft to fraud to murder. Whenever there was a case in this courtroom, he was there.

He walked in, black robes billowing behind him, and took his seat on the bench. He gestured with his hand, and everyone sat down. There was a ruffle of movement, and then silent. Despite knowing exactly what the outcome of the case would be, Matthew's heart was still beating a mile a minute.  
  
"Matthew Sohinki," Judge Betty started. "You stand accused of two counts of murder and twenty-three counts of blackmail in the first degree. How do you plead?"

He stood up. For a second, he thought about what would happen if he denied the charges. He entertained the fantasy that he would be found innocent, and that his life would go back to the way it was before.

But that was all it was. A fantasy. And he knew better than to pursue it.

"Guilty, your honour," Matthew stated. The gallery erupted into murmurs at his words. No one had been expecting that. Oh, had he just given the press a juicy story.

Judge Betty slammed his gavel down. "Order in the court!"

Once everyone had silenced, the judge turned to look at Matthew. "Matthew Sohinki, I hereby sentence you to a lifetime banishment to the Slums. You may not take any items or people with you, or return to the Elite District, or any District besides for the Slums. If you do, you shall be shot on sight. Case dismissed."

He brought his gavel down again to a courtroom in uproar. As security ushered both Matthew and Noah out, people screamed at him, telling him that he was disgusting at that he deserved worse. The press circled them as they rushed outside. They barely made it back into the car safely.

Once they were inside, Noah turned to him. "Told you could count on me."

Matthew grinned. What the younger man had done had been impressive, he gave him that. "That you did."

• • •

He sat in the farewell room alone.

It was custom for any banishees to be given an hour to say goodbye to their loved ones. But Matthew didn't  _have_  any loved ones. So there he sat, in the white room, feeling lonelier with every second that passed.

But then, the door opened.

"Hey, Matthew," it was Joven, standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

Matthew stood up, shocked. "Joven?"

"You didn't seriously think that I'd let you leave without saying goodbye first, did you?" he smiled.

Matthew laughed and rushed over to him, hugging him tightly. Joven was the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend. And while he won't miss him terribly in the Slums, it was still nice to see him again.

"They didn't catch you?" he whispered in his ear, making sure the cameras couldn't hear him.

"No," Joven whispered back. "Thought you were a lone wolf. Like you had the capacity to pull that off by yourself."

Matthew chuckled and pulled away. "Thank you. For coming."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of not," Joven replied. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Matthew replied, and found that there was truth in his words.

Joven couldn't stay for long; he had a girlfriend now, and she'd kill him if she knew where he was. They hugged goodbye one last time, and then he was gone. Matthew was left alone for a few more minutes, and then the guards came to get him.

He was given one last meal, in another white room. He picked cake; there were no dessert items in the Slums. Sugar was too expensive.

Before he knew it, the cake was gone, and the guards were leading him through the hallways of the containment center and towards a black van. They threw him in the back. A few minutes later, he heard the engine roar, and then the van was moving, making him tumble around in the darkness.

The drive seemed to last forever. Without the sun, he had no sense of time, and it was pitch black in the van. His watch had already been stripped from him, along with his other clothes, and replaced with the baggy, hole-covered clothes that were standard for the impoverished citizens of the Slums.

Finally, the van rolled to a stop. When the doors to the back were pulled open, Matthew was blinded by the sunlight, and had to cover his eyes. His eyesight returned just in time as the guards grabbed him and threw him on the ground, before climbing back in the van and driving off, leaving him behind.

Matthew found himself in the middle of a cracked road. People had gathered to stare at him from the streets, standing in front of rundown buildings in outfits similar to his, their faces covered in dirt and the lines that were the effect of back-breaking work.

Over their whispers, he could hear the sound of an engine. Seconds later, a motorcycle pulled up in front of him, swerving to the side right before they hit him. For a few seconds, Matthew wondered if they were here to kill him. There was nothing anyone from the Slums hated more than an Elite, after all, and he was defenceless.

But then they took off their helmet, letting their hair fall over their shoulders. It wasn't brown anymore; she'd died it purple.

"Hello, Matthew," Mari grinned as she leaned over the handlebars of her motorcycle. There was no anger in her expression; in fact, she looked happy to see him. "Welcome to the Slums."

 

**•The End•**


End file.
